


Silverblade

by Taylande



Series: Journal of the Elf [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Demons, F/F, Family Feels, Family Relationships - Freeform, Half-Siblings, Hopefully character development shows, I CAN'T THINK OF ANY OTHER TAGS, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lies, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Murder, My OC is bad at feelings, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylande/pseuds/Taylande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylande Silverblade is merely an elf. An elf with a boring past, of nothing but a lifetime of training. But, is it only that, or merely an illusion?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Delve

Pandaria, one month ago.

She was sitting in a shallow pool, legs crossed, eyes closed, back straight. Her breathing patterns were normal, calm, not burdened with any sort of goal, or any stress. She was perfectly calm. Calm and stable.

And then her breathing was thrown off, each gasp of air shorter, shallower than the last. Her hands no longer rested on her knees. They were fists, feuled with anger and hatred. But at what? That was unknown, the answer to be given at a much later time.  
She stood. Water splashed up around her as she roared in anger. Her loose breeches, a deep grey in color, were now soaked. They were nearly black, hanging heavily off her person.

Moving from the pond, she ignored her normal gear, her shoes, marching straight into the woods around her. Her hair was short and hung in loose, small braids at the side of her head. They were blown back due to the pace she moved at. And finally, she halted. A small clearing. Trees formed an almost perfect circle, and some dummies hung from their branches. She positioned her feet, then began her target practice.

Coordinated punches, kicks, blocks, and dodges on all the dummies. Roundhouse here, blackout there, a few palms, and a side roll. Eventually, she finished. All the dummies now lay littered around the clearing. She moved to kick them all out of the way, then sat.

Her eyes were closed, her palms resting on her knees, her back straight. And, she was perfectly calm, perfectly still. Hours flew by as she sat there, still as a boulder, unspeaking, unmoving. And then, she smiled at nothing. So, she delved into a memory.

Temple of Elune, nine hundred years prior.

She sat down in the Gardens, snow drifting down around her. She was in one of the kaldorei's colder zones, which was the reason for the snow. All was calm, quiet, peaceful. She lay back in the snow, now lightly piling around her upon the frosty ground. She was alone, trying to adjust to the cold temperatures. And, she'd been out for nearly two hours.

"Sister, I advise you enter the Temple," a newcomer said. The child who laid in the snow had been in their ranks for nearly a year, and she always proved to be quite the trouble.

"Kalandra. I thought I told you that I'd be fine. I'm just seeing how cold I can get," she replied. A faint smile grew on her lips. Kalandra sighed, moving closer to the youngling.

"Taylande, you're so troublesome. And you're not even twelve hundred," she sighed. The child, Taylande, held back a groan of disappointment. She pulled herself from her snowy bed (if you'd even call it that) and looked at the older girl with a rather stern expression.

"I'm testing my limits. It's not like I'll magically mature," she grumbled in complaint. Kalandra furrowed her brow, seeing the goosebumps on the girl's arms. 

She sighed, saying, "Tay, you just need to learn. You're not the Goddess Herself." Tay sighed, pushing herself to a standing position.

Kalandra stood after a moment. The duo set off to their room, because the sun had nearly risen. Of course, kaldorei don't favor day. The two shared a room, which Kalandra was great they did. Tay was like a sister to her, and, from what she heard, had a rough life before she came to the Sisterhood. Kalandra was always trying to help the pathetic scrap of a girl, ever since she'd stepped foot in the Temple.

"Kal, why do you care about me?" Taylande asked her.

Kalandra was startled, and calmed down before answering with, "Think I've not seen those scars? You were a runt of a girl when you came here. And Elune knows what your father did to you, with those marks. . . You're family to me, and I intend to help you." Taylande flinched at the mention of her parent, recalling the night she carved half his face off. Her jaw muscles, clenched, which Kalandra took note of. Taylande had gotten the message her talkative friend sent, and she blinked in reply.

"I don't need anyone's help," Taylande mumbled, falling onto her bed. It was small and comfy, far better than how she was treated before.

She drifted off into a fitful slumber, the same dream repeating itself. It had the seven-eyed nightsaber, and that terrible painting look. The trees leaked, and she looked through a window at what she called the Leaking Forest. And then, the same line; "Have you had the dream again? A black nightsaber with seven eyes that watches from the outside?"

She threw herself up quicker than a cat, staring around the sunny room. Kalandra was still sleeping, and a passing priestess stood outside the doorway, looking at her. The woman's brow furrowed as she looked. Taylande shook her head like it was nothing.

The priestess hesitated, unsure of whether or not to believe the novice. Finally, she nodded, returning to her midday stroll. Taylande fell back, covering her face with both hands as she tried returning to sleep. Eventually, she did, but there was no dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taylande pulled herself from the memory trance, shaking. Sweat rolled off her person, making her light grey tank top damp. She wiped her face off her with hands, pushing herself to her feet. And then, she walked back down to the pool, searching her satchel of supplies for a journal, hardly even written in.


	2. Just Some Bad Dreams

Her first delve had taken a toll on her. She would sweat easily, and from anything at that. Now, she knew to prepare for delve number two. Hopefully she'd uncover something. She sat calmly, her breathing regular once again. It looked like nothing burdened her, weighed her down. She looked so much more at ease, so much better than she usually was. And, it was rare to see her this way.

It gave her a break from all of the dangers she'd deal with. These small in-between moments were the times she could learn, be herself. Due to this month she had, she took it and decided to put it to use, and not waste it. She sat, her legs crossed, back straight, hands resting on her knees. Calming down, clearing her mind, she took the last steps in preparation for her second delve.

Temple of Elune, 898 years ago.

Two years had passed since her cold weather adaption. Everything went well, and nothing of interest had happened. The elders were always alert, the novices calm, except for two. 

"Have you had the dream again? A nightsaber with seven eyes that watches from the outside?" She was in the Leaking Forest. The eyes upon the once magnificent beast blinking once, seperately. The ink leaves of the trees ran, staining everything a shade of grey. It stared at her as she stared at it. The eyes never wavered as it looked towards the window. She'd drawn the curtains closed. Yet, it seemed to look straight through every time she drew them back for a quick peek. And then, there was a new line; "Flee, screaming, into the forest."

Then she sat in her bed, sweat rolling off her in waves. The moonlight filtered through, having just risen. The blanket lay crumpled over her legs, while she glanced around to look at every crack, and every corner. "Tay. What in the name of Elune?" a voice asked. But, while it spoke, it turned more and more demonic. She was frozen in fear whenever something that resembled some sort of a demon moved nearer to her.

It mouthed the words 'look down,' and she did. A spear poked through the front of her stomach. Green blood, instead of purple, stained it, seeped from her open wound. Her body felt like ice, the air feeling like fire. Not a thing going on made sense. She tried to move her body, only succeeding in placing a foot on the ground.

She forced herself now, and placed the other foot down. Every move made her struggle for air as she tried to reach the creature. Every step she took, it took one back. Now, she tried moving faster. Her muscles ached and burned, her bones feeling like they were little, snapable twigs. Her skin was still ice cold, and she just managed to reach the creature.

A grin was on it's face as it grabbed the tip of the spear, pulling it clean through her. It's hand reached into her body, up past her liver, past her ribcage, her lungs, and closed around her heart. It yanked, pulling her now unbeating heart straight from her chest. And then she was shaken awake. Kalandra half stood, half sat on her bed, concern etched upon her smooth face. She blinked a few times, waiting for something that never came.

"Tay, are you alright? You were sweating, mumbling something about a forest, and nearly crying. The fel did you dream?!" Kalandra almost spat. Luckily, she spoke in a somewhat loud whisper. It was enough for her to hear, but not enough to rouse others and draw attention to them, thank Elune.

"Kal. . . It was some horned creature. I. . . It impaled me and my blood was green. I don't know anymore," Tay mumbled. Her pine green hair was always pushed back, but now it hung in her face, hiding the tears of fear she now shed. Kalandra, knowing her habits only too well, pushed Tay's hair back and wiped away the scattered tears. A smile broke out on her concerned face, and she hugged the younger girl. For once, she was glad she had Kalandra here.

"Dammit, get off me, please," Tay squeaked. Kalandra glared at her use of foul language, only after releasing her from the hug. She stood, stretching out her muscles, hearing some of her bones crack into place. The duo, after changing, exited their room to arrive at their first lecture of the night.

And it was quite boring. The elder priestess rambled on about swearing to never hurt another, along with all the generic holy woman stuff. A few other novices listened eagerly, clearly trying to dedicate themselves to their craft. Minutes passed, most likely hours, and they were finally dismissed. Kalandra was glad to have about a half an hour of free time, so she could snack on some moonberries she, er, "found" in the Temple Gardens.

Tay had zoned out as they sat out in the Gardens, admiring the flora and snacking away on the delicious berries. Kalandra was chattering away after having downed most of the berries herself, and Tay heard none of it. She kept dreaming of earning fame for herself, and becoming the hero of all the kaldorei. She thought of all the men and women falling at her feet, begging them to be hers, while she stood valiantly atop a pile of her vanquished foes. She had her sword in hand, more powerful than anything there could ever be, as she charged forth at the leader of all evil in the world. 

And then she was smacked. Very hard. Kalandra shot her a quick glare, motioning for her to follow. Their next lecture would begin, and, if they were caught or didn't appear, they'd have found themselves tending to the sabers for, possibly, a few months.  
And so, they scurried along, like mice being chased, to their next lecture.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She pulled herself out of the delve, a weak smile now gracing her lips. These memories brought back good times for her, bad as well. But, her memories were an equal mix of good, and bad, with quite a few jokes hidden beneath. Tay dwelled upon the dreams. They unnerved her more than anything. The creature was a satyr, kaldorei mutated by Sargeras himself, only so they'd have more power. And, it was in her dreams, having impaled her, cast some sort of odd spell on her, and it scared her.

She moved to where her satchel was, near the pond, and pulled out a rag. It wad then dunked into the lond, then raised back up. She brought it to her face, lightly wiping and dabbing at everything that sweat. Which was her whole face.

After she got done, she wrung it out, hanging it on a nearby branch to dry. She grabbed her satchel, removing the journal and her writing utensils.


	3. Start of Becoming Prey

Ellemayne, the blade of her mother. It was sharp, painful, and icy to the touch. Her mother said she was it's greatest user. She'd brushed it off as a simple compliment. Now, she doubted that, and readied the blade. Her left hand was over the hilt's end, the blade sticking out, held at an angle. Her left foot was flat on the ground. She perched herself slightly upon her left toes, leg bent at a slight angle.

She took in a deep breath, eyes closed. She had to clear her mind, focus. This should have been easy, but it wasn't. Names of all those she cared for raced through her head. Galrenthor, Landrelia, Val, Irugan, Lulaya, Kalandra, Elariel, Taylnar. And it all raced through her head again. It went on a loop. The names of her family, her true family, could never easily be cleared from her mind. She cared far too much. Especially for one. . .

Shaking off her mortal desires, she bowed her head, in the same position. And then she spun in the air like a missile. She landed, legs stretched far apart, one hand upon the ground for balance. Her face contorted into a look of alertness and concentration. A backflip and a twirl through the air as she jabbed at imaginary foes. Instead of dismissing her loved ones' names, she used them to fuel her. They took them, all of them, she thought.

A duck here, an elbow there, a kick. . . there, her blade in one's face. She was moving like a shadow, having a deadly grace about her. She moved like a monk; Quick, coordinated, strategized, smart. The style she used was a mix of a monk and a rogue. The attacks were rogue based, her stance and movements monk based. She was like a dancer, except deadlier.

This ran in her blood. Her father created her to be the perfect kaldorei. He wanted her to reestablish Highborne rule. And she failed.

Her judgement became clouded, her moves flimsy, not as effective. She did not notice in her blaze of anger. Nothing would stop her as she hacked away at the trees, dulling the blade. 

And then the blade slipped from her hand. She came to, seeing blade marks in the trunks. Quickly, she grabbed Ellemayne, sheathing it. The blade's name meant 'Reaver' in her tongue of Darnassian, and it did what the name implied. Now, she sat in her normal position. It was time to focus on why she'd be jealous of others, of why she hated them. And then she delved.

Temple of Elune, 894 years ago.

It was always the Forest. It taunted her, talked of rooks casting shadows, begging her to enter the woods, to be lost forever in nightmare. She was not swayed, not once. Her mentors taught her better, and she knew not to. The voice was so sweet, though. Like a harsh melody out of a dream, lost to time, it would beg and beg again. And she never moved.

Never could she leave the small cottage, but only stare at the nightsaber as it's seven eyes continuously stared and blinked. It made her sweat, tempting her to flee to the forest. It's eyes, even if she ran into the leaking leaves and darkly-inked trunks, would still follow her. And she would often find herself frozen and staring at it. They were always locked in a staring contest when she looked into it's eyes. It scared her, chill her bone, made her blood run cold, stiffened her muscles.

But Kalandra was always there. She was always there to pull her from the slumber, always careful to never tell a soul about this. It was every day. Every day she fell into sleep, she would return to the Leaking Forest. It made her start to fear the unwaking world. "I hate our High Priestess. She's so high and mighty. Tells us we'll always have peace," a novice nearby snarled. It was in a hushed tone, and she never really heard much beyond that. The years passed by, only bringing age, the same dream, and constant gossip.

"Tay, you damned moron. . . Can't even get a stupid combat drill right," she hissed to herself. She was practicing dagger drills. And, it felt more natural than anything else. That is, besides the staff. The dagger, to her, was perfect. The bright pink lines of the twin scars would sometimes sneak out from hiding. Others would steal glances while they could, having heard gossip from another about them. 

Tay knew, after what the mysterious Stormbow said years ago, Val'riin was not her mother. She'd zone out, wondering who birthed her. And right now, she had zoned out. Maybe her mother was a valiant sentinel whose blade took down dozens of enemies. Maybe her mother was a saber breeder, who supplied the sentinels with their giant mounts. Maybe her mother was dead, or another priestess, acting inconspicuous.

She doubted it, returning to reality before being smacked in the face. She'd wished they were real daggers, dull, so she'd hear the hiss of metal on leather once again.

As she parried a strike, her partner, Kalandra, chuckled at her use of the dagger. "And one more for Silverblade's Bastard," she said. Tay, having taken a liking to that title, laughed with her, shooting the older girl an impish grin. That could only mean trouble. She released a flurry of hits upon the girl, most of which she could barely dodge. The hits that would make it through would smack against her skin or robes, causing those areas to heat up and turn a slightly brighter color.

"Looks like Silverblade's Bastard might win," she laughed, dodging to the side, and rolling here and there. Kalandra could barely keep up, her muscles aching from the endless use. Tay rolled around to her back, Kalandra having lost track of where the girl was. And then, a poke in the middle of her back told her just where Tay had rolled off to.

"And so, the mighty Kalandra Startender falls to the assassin," Tay joked. A stupid grin was on her face as she lowered the. . . practice weapon. . . thing. . . down. Kalandra rolled her eyes, pretending to be unamused. Tay knew her friend would have been exhausted, so she moved to the Gardens, following like an obedient pet. Kalandra sprawled onto the stone bench, very tired as well. The stone was cold, too, causing a groan of satisfaction to be drawn out of her.

During this moment, Tay silently envied her. Kalandra was pretty, smart, and daring. She was everything one could hope for. She had bear paws for markings, falling under her eye 'til they reached her jawline. Her hair was a beautiful white-grey color, the tattoos matching. Everything a person could want.

Her jealousy grew, but she pushed it down. Yet, she thought, Kalandra is very pretty. She found the other girl quite attractive. There was about a thousand year age difference between them, yet Tay didn't care, not at--

She had wandered into the woods. She'd been so sucked into admiring Kalandra and being envious she'd not paid attention to the real world. And now she was most likely lost. A man stepped out, holding a blade. It was long, then curved near the end. Tay saw she had no weapon on her, more than sure she would die out here.

"You're Silverblade's bastard?" he asked. Turning his head, he spat on the ground. Her eyes widened in fear. _Yep, I'm dead_ , she thought.

He raised the blade, bringing it down in an arc. She managed to dodge to the side, yet the blade snagged on her robe. It sliced her arm, sending a trail of blood pouring out. This was not good. She'd not even learned to heal yet, nor cast a single spell at all. The blade came down again, her instincts telling her to catch it and fight. She fell to the ground, moving to crawl under his feet. He stabbed it through her leg, drawing out a wail of pain. She managed to punch him in his. . . least flattering area. . . and continued to try and get away. Yet, she failed, getting a stab wound right through her upper thigh.

Barely able to stand on her right leg, she moved forward. He slashed at her, slicing her midsection and robes. She was forced to cover it up to prevent bleeding out. The man chuckled, sure he would be victorious. So, he stabbed her left arm, rendering it useless. With one immobile leg and arm, a nice slice across her stomach, and her other arm covering the slice, she was more than sure she'd be dead.

He saw there was no need to use the sword, so he simply picked her up, pushed her against a tree, and began punching. She obtained a black eye within seconds, her mouth and nose starting to bloody quickly. And then she heard a familiar, upbeat roar. It was Kalandra. She'd come to save her. Now, she'd become tired, unable to look at much as everything started to fade.

"Love you too, Kal," she murmured. It was inaudible, so her friend didn't hear. 

She saw a gleam of light on metal, guessing she'd picked up the stranger's blade. She then heard some odd noise, and a barely audible, "But I. . . was supposed to be. . . Fanarol's. . . heir." 

Whatever had happened next, she couldn't recall, and everything faded. Everything was fuzzy, muffled, and odd. She could briefly hear Kalandra's voice, though it faded into the background quickly. She felt jumpy, like someone was hopping about while holding her, and she took in a breath. And darkness enveloped her vision.

Temple of Elune, one month later.

She opened her eyes, finding herself in the room she shared with Kalandra. She raised a hand to rub her eyes, feeling oddly sleepy. Pushing back the covers, she saw she was in loose fitting breeches and a linen shirt. 

"Tay. . ." a voice wavered. Tay was then picked up in a hug, trying to breathe. Soon after, she was set down, and saw it was not Kalandra. It was another novice she knew, yet they barely knew one another at all.

"Liarah?" she yawned. The other girl nodded, a smile on her angular face. Tay let out a weak chuckle, and asked, "Damn. How long was I out?" And then Liarah's smile disappeared.

"You slept an entire month! We were so worried," she whimpered. Tay blinked, seeing she held back tears of fear and relief. She motioned it was okay to cry, and the girl did.

"By Elune, that's amazing!" she laughed, falling back onto her bed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stood, briefly touching Ellemayne. As she did so, she sighed. Her hand fell off the hilt as a tear rolled down her cheek. Her mother gave it to her, and she wasn't around.

"Seems everyone's wanted to kill me," she mumbled, making her way to the pond. She arrived rather quickly, grabbing the journal and writing utensils. She flipped through the pages, staring blankly at them, not taking in a word.


	4. Beginning of the Fall

She sat in the clearing, resting, closing her eyes to clear her mind. She did not let thoughts of anyone cross into her mind. She would not allow herself to fail, not anymore. She had failed far too many. She failed her father, who had wanted her to become an assassin, to let Highborne rule again. She failed her mother, who begged her to stop drinking, and didn't. She failed all her friends, who kept telling her to quit seeking death, to settle down, and didn't. So, now, she could not fail herself.

Her goal was clear now. To slow down her adventuring, her search for fame, her stupid ideas, and everything else. Her goal would be reached for not some time, for she had to dedicate herself to this, to keep going. So, she delved, to look for where it all went wrong, where she started to stray from the path of the Goddess.

Temple of Elune, 742 years ago.

She'd aged into a fine young woman, one who excelled in her studies. She pursued the path of Elune, as if she were born into it. She embraced the concepts introduced, yet still tried to find and point out the flaws.

"Tay, you really should eat," Kalandra said. She held a sack of berries out, most presumably moonberries, waiting for her to grab it. She didn't, at first, and only did when Kalandra pushed the sack into her chest. She caught it in it's fall, preventing berries to spill out everywhere. Tay had to move some textbooks carefully out of the way. She had to make some space for the 'rations' Kalandra gave her, so the books wouldn't become ruined.

Textbooks were strewn everywhere as she sat in the library wing. These books were old, older than herself. They laid open, turned to random pages full of spells and incantations to invoke the Goddess and many more things like that. A quill was in her right hand, a small ink bottle carefully secured as she jotted down notes on a piece of parchment. Her handwriting was a tiny scrawl, most of the parchment still blank. She wrote fast, glancing from book to book, getting as much down as possible.

She ran her free hand through her scraggly pine green hair, unsuccessfully pushing it from her view. Her amber eyes were wild, darting rapidly here and there, from this book to that. Shadows had started forming under her eyes, most likely from a lack of sleep. Her face was a little round, almost in an oval shape.

The past century and a half treated her well, her person now filling out some more. She'd become somewhat curvier, lost the rest of the small amount of baby fat she had, too. Her legs were long and thin, same as her arms, adding to her a graceful look. Her skin had darkened only slightly, now a purply-pink in color. She really was blossoming into quite the young woman.

Kalandra re-entered, giving Tay a shake. Tay, not responding, finally touched the sack of moomberries and plucked one into her mouth. She bit down on it, the juices staining her canines a purple color.

"Hey, moron. It's nearly dawn. You've skipped everything today to look through old books," she growled, putting emphasis on 'old books.' Tay still didn't respond, and continued to scrawl down some more notes, the parchment nearly filled out, now. A sharp pain on the side of her face told her to respond to her friend, or get hurt again. Blinking, she whirled around, head darting this way and that for the source. Seeing Kalandra, she stopped focusing on her friend.

"You. Sleep. Now," she scolded, rolling up the parchment and closing the old textbooks. Tay followed suit, closing the ink and stuffing the parchment into a satchel that hung at her side, along with the quill. She moved along the rows with Kalandra, placing the books back where they belonged, trying to be as quick and careful as possible. As they did so, they ran into another disciple.

She was only a few years older than Tay, still younger than Kalandra, though. Tay struggled to recall the girl's name, yet couldn't find it, no matter how hard she tried. 

"Hail, sister Daleera," Kalandra greeted. Daleera, too, had snow-white hair like Kalandra, yet hers was in a headband. Her markings were a deeply colored purple, slick like a serpent of some sort. She could have been Kalandra's twin, if only they didn't look so different in the face. Tay stood there awkwardly, furrowing her brow and letting her lips stretch into a wide line. Her cheeks stuck out slightly, making her look like a confused fool next to the two. She'd turn about in a circle, looking around to shut out the girls.

But, their chat didn't last long as she heard a gasp come from Daleera. "What happened to your back?!" Daleera hissed quietly. Tay, being turned the other way, slammed her face into her hand. She always had to be careful with her movements, or risk people asking.

"Oh. . . uhhh. . . I was capt--" Tay started, only to get cut off by Kalandra, who told the truth. Daleera's eyes had widened, giving her a rather worried look. Tay, on the other hand, slammed her face into her palm. Again.

"We should be going. This one hasn't had much sleep. Farewell, Daleera," Kalandra said, taking Tay by the wrist and dragging her off. Tay followed her friend with reluctance, and stared at her blankly the whole way.

Along the way, though, she started to fantasize about her friend. The thoughts were impure, dirty, and something she should not have been thinking about. The two reached their room, and Kalandra turned around to make sure her friend wasn't angry. Yet, instead she saw Tay's cheeks a very, very dark purple, and her eyes wide. The wideness of her eyes brought out the shadows more, making them seem to pop slightly. 

Tay simply walked past her, towards her bed. She got onto her knees before collapsing on her side, falling asleep instantly. Kalandra sighed, moving to Tay and throwing the blanket over her.

It was the nightsaber again, yet three eyes were ripped out, half of one gone. She could only stare in horror as she saw the three eyes rolling towards her. The half eye was lapped up by the nightsaber, and it continued to stare. Every day, it was something new. This time, besides the eyes, there was a pond and what she assumed to be a man. He was blending in with the trees, making her blood turn to ice in her arteries. It stood there, and, like the nightsaber, stared. 

"Have you had the dream again? A black nightsaber with seven eyes that watches from the outside?" The disembodied voice muttered something about a drowned god, a rook, and some sort of madman city.

"The fish know all the secrets," went the voice. The man, which she was now calling 'the Rook,' stepped forward, pulling the mask off. Long, flowing, purple hair tied back in a ponytail, unnerving amber eyes that made one shift uncomfortably, a trimmed beard, slightly darker than his hair. It was her father, his face whole, standing and staring.

And then the left half of his face melted off, meat and bone showing. Little flecks of his flesh remained on this side, some muscle still stretched across his face. Mostly, it was his skull, still stained in his blood. He looked like someone burned his face off. And then he lunged.

She woke up, heart beating faster than ever. Sweat rolled off her again, and tears stained her face. It was always this that made her cry. Kalandra was up, looking at her worriedly.

"What was I doing?" Tay asked. Kalandra didn't answer right away. It caused Tay to ask again, this time more harsh. "You were choking out names of us, though you weren't very loud. You kept on saying the same name several times more than the others."

Tay looked at her with fear in her eyes. She was afraid to ask, afraid it would be her Father. She blinked, which was enough for Kalandra to know to tell her. "Landrelia," she muttered.  
The two rarely crossed paths, but when they did, they would exchange some words. And, Tay had taken note, she always seemed to look at her with a type of love in her eyes. She'd always wish Tay to be safe, too. She sighed, though, thinking, At least it wasn't my Father's. Kalandra stood up, stretching her arms out and popping her knuckles. Tay followed suit, yet rolled her neck. Tonight was their night off, to do what they pleased.

"I'm heading to town. Should be back before long," Tay quickly said. She made her way through the winding halls, down the spiraling ramps, and through more halls. Finally, she reached the stables, where the sabers were.

"Hail, sister Taylande!" called a familiar voice. Like Daleera, Tay couldn't place the name, but instead called out the same greeting. "Hail, sister! Forgive me, but I do not recall your name, Milady." 

The woman smirked, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. Her voice was smooth, like the water in a stream, rushing over the rocks. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, defining her sharp, angular face in just the right way. Her hair was colored a midnight blue, black streaks here and there. Her markings were of an owl's wings spread in flight, colored the same midnight blue. "It's Saleriar, Taylande," the woman laughed. Of course, now Tay remembered. Saleriar was an elder priestess. From what she'd heard, she fought in the War of the Ancients, and the War of the Satyr, as well.

"I was wondering if any sabers were available," Tay replied. Saleriar shook her head, her shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle.

"Sorry, kiddo. I'm afraid not, and you're still pretty small." Tay almost snapped at her, yet realized the elder priestess was joking.

"Hey, I grew a little bit! I'm 5'7", now," Tay replied. Saleriar chuckled at the girl's humorous reply, then said she was still short in her eyes. Though, the elder priestess was 7'1". Tay waved a goodbye, exiting the stables and taking off down the road, already on her way.

After an hour or so, she made it to town, seeing some faces from the Temple. They were in town to see friends, she suspected. She, on the other hand, was off to do something. She reached a house, where she had never been before. Why she felt drawn to this place, though, she did not know.

This man had spells and incantations here. He had weapons. She picked up a dagger on the nearest table, creeping up the ramp. She was careful to watch her step, as he might have a squeaky board or two. Second floor. Tables were in corners, a shelf pressed against the wall and notes scrawled--the same scrawl as hers--on parchment laying in the tables. She ignored those, going to where he slept, up at the third floor of the open house.

He was sleeping. Tay crept over, slithered carefully onto the bed, and looked at him. He looked almost like her father, aside from the lack of the amber eyes. It was odd, for they seemed to be related if they were this similar. 

Something about him, though, felt wrong. Wrong. So, so very bad, as if he should not live. And the blade found his neck. His blood splurted onto her face and robes, staining them. He would be dead from bleeding out, and so grabbed a cloth and wiped the handle clean of fingerprints.

She quickly crept down to the second floor, pulling books and flipping through pages. She grabbed a few of those books, looked through them. She was appalled at what was within. Mentions of a man whose name started with an 'N,' of how he had three children and a sister, how that said man was hoping to do. . . something to the world they lived in. Brief mentions of people, and that was it. 

She flipped to the front cover, and saw what it read; " _ **Property of Tir'nael Silverblade.**_ " The book  
was soon dropped.

Temple of Elune, three months later.

Tay had become more muscled, in her free time doing pull-ups, and sit-ups, and other strength building exercizes. She sweat constantly, reeking of body odor. She'd make nightly trips to wash herself, Kalandra tagging along after that night she disappeared.

She'd been gone for three days, and nobody had found her, not even in town. And then on that fourth day, she'd appeared in her room, mumbling peoples' names, tearing up, and sweating.Now, it had become slightly less of a problem for her, some days dreamless. And, she would be thankful, the seven eyed nightsaber appearing a little less.

"Tay, calm down your training fiasco. You're becoming a priestess, not a sentinel!" Kalandra complained. Tay merely grunted, hissing every time she would pull herself up on the treebranch. After a few more rounds, she dropped down, barely able to walk. She'd stumble back with Kalandra every dawn, stumble to her room, and drift off into the nightmares.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stood, rushing to the pond near where her satchel sat. She tripped on a creeping root, causing her to fall face-first into the water. Bubbles came to the surface from her exhaling.

She lay there for a time, finally crawling out to breathe. She'd coughed some, ridding her system of water. Crawling to her satchel, she reached in, pulling out those notes she scrawled all those years ago, and studied them once more, not bothering to grab the ink and quill. She simply stared at the notes, about how they were nothing more than sloppy handwriting with ways to try and avoid her father. Blinking, she thought back briefly to what had gone on from what she could recall. 

Looking up, she began staring off into space. "Did I just fucking murder my grandfather."


	5. Desires

She sat in the clearing, but, this time, she was not alone, not left to herself. She sat with family, with someone she could count on. She begged them to visit, to try a delve or two. Instead, they came merely to pull her in case it got out of hand. They came to see their little sister, to keep her company. They came to mend old wounds, to heal the rift.

"Ah, sister, you came," she greeted calmly. Her hair now hung loose around her face, the shadows under her amber eyes nearly gone. She was starting to look like herself, had she been given a normal childhood, had she not been tormented by whispers and dreams, had she never even touched dwarven ale. 

"I've a name, you know," responded the new woman. She smiled at her sister, who looked nearly identical to her. Except, unlike her sister, her face was sharp and angular, not oval-shaped. Her hair was a much darker color than her sister's pine green, the woman's own hair purple. She had silver eyes, unlike her sister's amber. Her hair was always in a ponytail, unlike her sister's.

She settled down next to her younger sister, who sat, ready to begin her delve. She watched as she closed her eyes, brought her hands together, mostly in fists, yet watched as her index and thumbs met to make a temple form.

Temple of Elune, 701 years ago.

Kalandra flipped her best friend over, a smirk drawn across her lips. They were going hand-to-hand in a mock fight, cracking jokes and laughing about recent events. They giggled and jested, like normal friends would do, except they did it in the midst of practicing combat drills.

"Kal, you can destroy me if you'd like! I wouldn't mind," said her partner. She spoke in a flirtatious tone, which did nothing but add to her suspicions about her friend. 

"Tay, shut up about that. You're a dork," she would reply with a quick glare. Tay would chuckle, twisting her arm behind her head. She'd force Kalandra onto the ground with another quick bout of laughter. She'd hover over her friend, a look of romance on her face as she grinned. Taking Kalandra's arms, she would push them close, then grasp her wrists as they would rest above her head. This would, of course, make Kalandra feel quite awkward, her suspicions raising further.

Tay stared at her friend, who stared right back into her eyes. Kalandra read lust, and Tay read suspicion, unsure of what to do. Finally, after deciding against it, would smile and laugh, releasing her friend.

"Seems that Silverblade's Bastard wins again," she'd say, not allowing an awkward silence to fill the air. Kalandra sighed, sounding frustrated, as she smoothed her robes over. Tay didn't follow suit, her robes rumpled as ever. Tay would look around, the moon climbing higher and higher into the sky. She realized she'd be late for whatever class or lecture came next, and quickly sped down the hall. Last time she was late, things did not go so well.

She arrived on time, thank Elune, taking a seat and listen to an elder ramble on. All throughout it, she was busy nightdreaming about her and Kalandra, not taking in a world. She imagined mating her, claiming Kalandra as her own. Since they could not have kids of their own, she imagined adopting some orphaned kaldorei children, raising a family. The woman rambled on, and she still did not hear a word.

Oh, how she loved her best friend. She had to be the kind and friendly one. She had to be the pretty one. And, she'd attracted another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tay, I'm bored. Tell me more about life before the temple," she heard her friend say. She felt butterflies in her stomach, her heart rise in her throat. She was getting lost in her own desires. Kalandra wanted to know more of her. She didn't know what to say. Where would she start, and would Kalandra still like her? What if she didn't, and decided Tay wasn't really--

A sharp pain on her cheek told her to talk, or risk another whack to the face. She'd lick her lips, repeatedly asking herself, silently, if she should do it. She wasn't sure, not at all, until desire took the best of her. She rushed forward, giving Kalandra a shove towards the wall. Tay would stare intensely at her for a minute, hesitating, afraid her friend would hate her after this.

And then she pressed her lips against Kalandra's. It was amazing to her. The taste of her mouth, and it reminded her of trout mixed with moonberries. Oh, she wished she'd done this sooner. Finally, she'd overcome that obstacle, finally, and had become woman enough to kiss her.

Everything told her this was wrong, except for her heart. It urged her on, the voice in her head screaming at her to quit. She decided against logic, and went for lust.

Her hand slid to Kalandra's inner thigh, drawing out a short gasp from her. It slid into her undergarments, moving to tease her slit. She couldn't tell if Kalandra was excited, shocked, afraid, or all three. Until finally, a painful shove pushed her away, causing her to be sprawled onto the floor. She stared at her friend in amazement, startled, still, by the sudden shove.

"What in the name of Elune, Taylande?!" Kalandra nearly screamed. She was angry, Tay could tell immediately. Kalandra glared at her intensely, her eyes seeming to stare straight through her body, into her soul.

"I knew it. You did have feelings for me," she'd hiss, looking over to the window. The sun had nearly risen, and Tay still lay sprawled out on ghe floor. She watched as Kalandra settled herself into bed, staring at her sadly. She'd been turned down. She stood, trudging towards her own bed, falling in it. Instead of falling asleep right away, and into the Leaking Forest, she lay awake for what felt like ages, tears rolling off her cheeks. After what seemed to be eternity, she drifted to sleep.

And the Forest dragged her back. The disembodied voice returned, again, with the same line; "Have you had the dream again? A black nightsaber with seven eyes that watches from the outside?" It was the same thing every night. It would stare, causing her to peek at it, freezing her in place.

Her father would appear as the Rook, his face whole, then half melting off. He would then hold his hand out, the voice then saying, "Flee, screaming, into the Forest. They will all betray you.

She was tempted. The voice was deep, high-pitched, dark, light, heavy, and weightless, all at the same time. Yet, every time, one word would stick more than others; evil. And she woke up, crying. She was hiccupping, ready to bawl at a moment's notice. She noticed it was still daylight, but, the sun's rays tilted more and more to the left.

Sliding out of her bed, she quietly slipped out of the room unnoticed. She made a beeline, straight for the gardens, hoping to not run into anyone along the way.

"Novice. Why out of bed so early?" a soft, welcoming voice asked. Her blood froze as she immediately placed the voice. She felt a loving gaze on her, and she dared not turn around, instead leaning on the railing of the higher floor.

"Bad dream. Can't sleep. Thought I'd go to the Gardens for peace," she'd quickly answer, adding a sigh to make it more believable. Then again, she wasn't really lying. The woman, whose name she somehow recalled from their very, very brief interactions as Landrelia, let out a sort of 'hmm' noise.

"I see. Return to bed soon, though, and be safe," the older priestess would say. She felt her hesitate before turning away, and waited 'til she could no longer hear her soft footfalls.

And then she dashed to the Gardens, to the stone bench in the middle, and seated herself. The mere sight of the beautiful flowers in bloom made her forget why she came, the familiar wave of peace flooding her entire body. After about an hour, she fell back asleep. It was dreamless, just an odd blackness, without her Father's melting face, without her blood chilling, without the saber.

And then she heard Kalandra's voice. "Tay! I've looked everywhere for you. Why the hell were you not in bed?!" Tay sighed, hating whenever her friend did this.

She quickly explained that she'd had a bad dream, and came to the Gardens to calm down. Kalandra sighed, grasping her in a hug. Her stomach was doing backflips the whole time, even after she broke the hug. "I'm not interested, by the way," she'd reply, causing Tay's stomach to sink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She found herself breathing heavily, her sister teary-eyed with fear. She would find herself, much like in the delve, grabbed in a random hug, being crushed by someone bigger.

"I thought you were dying. You acted like it," her sister whispered, sounding eerily overjoyed at this, not daring to let go. Tay chuckled nervously, patting her sister on the back, reassuring her she was alive.

"Relax, Elariel. I'm okay. If I'm to die again, though, I'd rather go in a blaze of glory," she'd reply, pushing her sister off, and standing, moving to the pond to quickly, erm, eat. Yes, eat.


	6. Fearing Her Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kaldorei woman delves, desperate to know of her relationship with Kalandra. But, she instead gets a surprise.

She could not wait. No, not at all. She had to find out what happened next in her long-buried memories. She had to know. She needed to know, to learn more of herself.  
Without a moment's hesitation, she delved.

Temple of Elune, 700 years ago.

They'd not spoken much after that night. Nothing besides junior priestesses becoming adepts had occurred. How long she'd have to wait was unknown, yet she wanted to advance faster, to become a full-fledged priestess before she reached the age of 2,000.

She had desires, dreams, as everyone did. Yet, hers were plagued with a desire for fame. Hers were plagued, due to her heritage. Having Silverblade blood coursing through her veins and arteries, for her, was no honor, no blessing from the Goddess Herself. It was a burden.

It made her feel like the world was out to get her, (which it was) to kill her and rip her apart. Yet, she would not fall so easily, she refused. She was strong, stronger than her father, she hoped. But she doubted it.

A loud thudding noise drew her from her thoughts, her doubts, her loathing. She'd tripped over a root in the woods. She was on her way to the small bathing lake nearby. But, she herself was not on her way to bathe.

Quickly, almost reaching the tiny clearing, she scaled the nearest tree, reaching the thickest and most concealed branch. She timidly crawled to it's edge, peeking out of the leaves. She grinned, daring not to make a noise.

Kalandra was down below, casting her robe off to the side. Oh, her body looks so magnificent, she thought, feeling a heat in between her thighs. Even her breats are perfect, she thought. The sight of her friend's nude body made her desires scream, to just do what she had in mind.

She watched as Kalandra stepped into the pool of water, leaning farther out on the branch. Her head was nearly poking out of its concealment. She didn't care, at least she'd have gotten a good look at her friend.

She must be mine, she just has to, she thought, the heat between her loins increasing. She couldn't let her dirty desires get the best of her, not if it meant the end of their friendship. But she should be more than my best friend, screamed the little voice in the back of her mind.

Kalandra went under, coming up a few seconds later. She rinsed the grime in her hair out, while, unknowingly, her friend watched.

She needed Kalandra, like a kitten needed its' mother; desperately. Her heart slammed against her ribcage as she stared, the heat steadily getting hotter. She thought Kalandra might hear her heart, racing, beating, slamming everywhere in her body, but Kalandra didn't.

Kalandra climbed out from the pool, dressing herself. She leaned out more on the branch, and, not watching what she was doing, fell off and out of the tree. Quickly, she feigned waking up from having fallen asleep in the tree. Kalandra was shocked, and, robed, leaned down to help her friend up. She blinked a few times, taking the hand, rubbing her eyes, and yawning.

"Tay, were you spying on me?" she would procceed to ask. Tay would furrow her brow, feigning confusion. She wouldn't reply right away, causing Kalandra to glare. Tay, knowing her friend was fully capable of killing her, decided to answer, but added a tired tone to her voice.

"Huh? Nah, no. . . Fell asleep in the tree, didn't count on falling," she'd yawn, a look of suspicion crossing Kalandra's face. Tay smiled sheepishly, her eyes closing briefly. She would then act like she was falling asleep, then realized she really was, swung her head back to wake up. Instead, she whacked the back of her head on the trunk of the tree.

"We should return to the Temple," Kalandra hastily said, dragging Tay by the wrist once more. She was sure her friend would make her rest, but feared the idea, instead focusing on the thought of Kalandra being hers.

And, Tay was correct. Kalandra led her friend to her bed, (Kalandra's own bed) and told her to lay down and rest. Tay obeyed, like an obedient nightsaber, drifting off into sleep. Though, dawn wasn't for another hour and a half.

"You are already dead," the disembodied voice said, echoing in her mind. Instead of the Leaking Forest, she was at Mount Hyjal. She stood, overlooking a village. It was abandoned, and shadows creeped out from their corners.

The voice sounded again, this time right in her ear, and whispered. She felt hands on her shoulders, but they felt familiar. They also felt. . . reassuring to her.

Daring to, she looked behind her, and her blood froze. It was part of her father's face, his skull. She also saw a forest behind her, and she felt ready to rush towards it for safety. But then she remembered the whispers; "Flee, screaming, into the forest. They will all betray you."

And, looking back to the abandoned village, she saw the shadows rapidly approaching. In front of a house was the seven-eyed nightsaber, staring. Her 'Father' whispered to her a single word; "Flee."

She wanted to run, but then saw Kalandra walk out of the shadows. And then she saw a spear pierce her heart. Tay opened her mouth in a silent scream of anguish. Her dreams found a new way to torment her.

Everything told her to run into the forest, but she knew she would regret it. Looking back at the forest, she saw it leaking. It was the Leaking Forest, and she realized this was what was across all the trees, all the horrors.

And she looked back to the shadow, having now swallowed the entire village, nearing her faster. She felt her 'Father' squeeze her shoulders, and felt his hot breath on her ear. "Flee, screaming into the forest," he repeated. The shadow was upon her, finally, and it--

"Tay, wake up now!" Kalandra spat. She felt a scream rise in the back of her throat. Looking rapidly around, she saw she was in the forest outside the temple, a sharp, cold breeze rolling in from the east.

She got cold, as if she was dunked in a river and pulled back out. But, she touched her arm, and realized she was sweating profusely. Tay now found herself confused as to how she wound up here, in the woods.

"How the hell'd I get here?" she croaked. Kalandra looked worried, seeming afraid to answer. Tay gave her a pleading look, and her friend gave. She responded, "You just stood up and rushed out here an hour after you fell asleep."

So, she did flee, possibly screaming, to the forest, and began to think these were no mere dreams. First the mumbling, then the tearing up, ghe crying, and now sleepwalking.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, now hugging herself. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she would repeat. Tay felt she'd done something wrong, which caused her to do this. Now, she could properly fear sleep, fear her dreams and herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tay pulled herself from the delve, scared out of her wits. Now, she knew what had whispered to her those years ago, what gave her those dreams, that torment.

Those had stopped only for a couple of years, giving her some nights of actual rest, though they were wasted in her books and traveling to the strangest of places. Now, though, the dreams, she thought to herself, would just return to torment her again.


	7. A Pleasant Dream

Her hands were trembling, her body shook all over, and she dared not look into her past. No, not yet. Not whenever she knew some sort of hell awaited her. But she knew she had to delve. She knew she was eager to learn more of her past, of what she'd kept buried for years. And, maybe she could learn to avoid another mistake.

Temple of Elune, 700 years ago.

Several months had passed, and the year was drawing to a close. Kalandra still remained her friend, yet each day they would talk a little less. She didn't like this, sure they would no longer have that closeness they'd shared. The dreams had come more frequently, sometimes burning her mind with whispers. 

"Give in to your fear," it would say, "They are all out to get you. Now, take your revenge." Even, sometimes, when she was in her classes, it would happen. She'd try covering it up with a small cough, to try and keep a roar of fear and pain hidden.

"Oi, Silverblade's Bastard, right?" a new person asked, pulling her from her mind. This woman had pine green hair, like her, and tattoos of blades on her face of the same color. Except, her hair was down to her shoulders, and dyed, as purple was visible at the roots, part of it in a small ponytail that bounced when she moved.

"Y-yeah. Uhm, why?" she asked the woman. To her, this woman looked young, but, appearances can be deceiving. This new woman grinned at her, using two fingers to beckon her over.

"Heard you joined, little cousin. Asked to personally mentor you. Name's Taylnar Bladesong. Call me Nar," the woman said. Nar looked at her cousin, chuckling at her gawking.

"Oh, uh, Taylande Silverblade, at your service," she introduced herself with a bow. Nar looked at her youger cousin, who simply stared with wide eyes. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she patted Tay's shoulder and glided off. Tay, her legs not as long as Nar's, swiftly walked to keep up. Her cousin was something else, truly. She looked more suited to the battlefield than the life of a priestess.

But, assuming Nar would most likely pit her in one of the harder learnings, she looked forward to it. A stupid, mad-looking grin took shape on her face as she moved with longer strides, trying to, subconsiously, mimic the beauriful grace that her cousin carried.

Finally, they reached an area near the Temple grounds that could be used to practice. Nar jerked her head to a small wooden construct off to the side. Tay, waiting for the signal, simply stared and blinked.

"Okay. What've you learned so far?" Nar asked, a brow lofted. Tay, blinked, an 'uh' sounding from her mouth. After a moment of her trying to remember, Nar held a hand for her to get quiet. She'd say something under her breath, then pointed at the wooden construct. It immediately caught fire, but didn't burn up. Instead, it blinded Tay more than anything.

After the flame died off, she saw one scorch mark on the construct. Other than that, it remained unharmed, and looked fine. Tay blinked, staring wide eyed at her mentor.

"Elune's Fire. Harms anything unholy, anything that should not be. Thought you'd like something advanced," Nar explained. She told the words to Tay, who mouthed them many times over. She didn't dare start the incantation until she learned the words. Muttering them, she would point at the wooden construct. Nothing happened, and then it caught fire. It didn't have that same glow that Nar's did, and she realized that was fire fire.

Nar quickly put it out, a taut smile on her lips as she nodded an okay. So, Tay tried once more for the spell. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After spending the whole night muttering the same thing, she fell onto her bed, tired after the constant practice session. Kalandra, sitting on her bed reading a book, glanced up and saw what looked to be burn marks on her friend's arm.

"What's on your arm?" Kalandra asked, setting the book gently on her bed. She walked over to Tay, who had taken residence on the floor. Looking at her friend's face, she saw exhaustion, now quite sure this had to do with a spell.

"Fire summoned. . . but got it on. . . arms," she yawned. Kalandra let out a soft chuckle, returning to her bed. The sound of her voice echoed in Tay's ears, which got her fo sleep quickly.

Kalandra lay completely nude on the banks of a pond. She was basking in the moonlight, taking in every inch possible. A smile was etched upon her face, and it looked to be a smile of pleasure. Moving closer, Tay saw her long-time friend had her legs spread. A thought popped into mind, a thought that Kalandra was finally hers. So, she moved forward, catching Kalandra's attention. But, a snapped twig was at her feet, which, she realized, caused her to turn around.

"Ishnu'alah, Tay. You know, I wouldn't mind if you did anything to me," she breathed. Her voice pulled Tay in, caused her to move closer. Kalandra smirked, and something about it was off, yet she dismissed it. She stood up, grasping Tay by the collar. She would tug her forward, their lips meeting. Tay felt that her dream had finally come true. She could have sworn this was actually happening. Every part of her was loving this.

Finally, Tay pushed Kalandra, causing her friend to hit the ground with a soft thud. A rather impish smirk crossed Tay's face. She got down in front of her friend, inching forward. She pulled Kalandra into a kiss, like the night Tay was finally woman enough to. It was full of purpose, lust, and some other identifiable traits and emotions. While that went on, her hand brushed Kalandra's inner thigh.

This would pull a small gasp from her lips, yet Tay dismissed it like it never happened. Her index finger slid forward, teasing her folds. They only just started to wetten, though. Tay slid a finger inside, feeling a moan arise in her friend's mouth. She hadn't let the moan out, yet, and so another finger was inserted. Nothing again, and so she added a third.

Finally, she drew it from Kalandra's mouth. Her thumb slid up to rub at her most sensitive area, which made Tay want to grin. Her fingers would move slowly, and sexual juices would begin to run. _This_ , Tay thought, _has to be a good sign._ Her juices coated Tay's fingers, causing her to speed up only slightly. She felt Kalandra wrap her arms around her, nails digging into her back. They broke the fabric of the robe, going into her skin, as if to latch on.

Tay would break the kiss, moving to her friend's left breast. She wrapped her lips around the nipple, suckling like a kitten. A sound, most likely a moan, would be pulled from Kalandra's mouth. As she continued trying to pleasure her friend, she couldn't help but get that nagging feeling. It kept saying that something bad would happen, like all the dreams before this one.

Something told her to run, run away from Kalandra, yet she didn't. Kalandra pulled away, seeing concern etched onto Tay's face. Her brow furrowed, and she stared at her friend confusedly. She asked her friend, "What's the matter?"

Tay shook her head, then was pulled into a hug. She felt Kalandra's nails dig into her back again, then felt them go deeper, into her muscle. Looking past her friend as the pain set in, she saw her father stroking the seven-eyed nightsaber. His face was melted-looking, like normal.

"Flee, screaming, into the forest," Kalandra's voice whispered to her. She felt her eyes tear up from the fear. It was back, here to disrupt her peaceful, pleasant dream. And then--

She woke up. Kalandra, the real Kalandra, had her in a hug. Her breathing pattern was off, but through the shudders and pants, she felt Kalandra, shaking.

"Tay. What the hell? You kept saying your father. . . your father did things to you," she croaked. Tay felt guilty right away. When she slept, she would scare her friends, and it did them no good.

"I'm sorry, Kal," Tay mumbled, patting her friend on the back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stood, taking out Silverblade. She could still see the blood of it's victims, even though it was wiped clean. She remembered what she did that night, using the blade. She remembered reassurring her friend, then walking out to get air. She recalled grabbing Silverblade, the only defense she had, and heading to the gardens. And she remembered seeing Liarah and her sister.

And then she remembered leading them into the woods, where they'd never be found again, where they lay, resting, where they lay, decaying, where they lay forever. What possessed her to do that, she didn't know, not at all. And so she sheathed the blade, trudging off to figure out just why or what would have caused her to do this.


	8. Wild Day

She didn't feel like delving, not at all. She was getting tired of that repetitiveness. Everything was creepy enough, and it wasn't like she needed more of that.

"Taylande, you're a huge fucking moron. Hmm. . . I wonder if I can still light my arms on fire," she said to herself. Tay struggled to recall thr incantation she had used those years ago. Her memories had remained buried too long. Finally, a smirk crossed her face. She remembered it. And now, she had to concentrate. Her face twisted into a look of disappointment. Focus was not her best trait.

She waited, repeating the spell and mouthing it, waiting for the heat. A sigh escaped her lips as nothing happened. Tay lowered her arms to her sides, more than sure it wouldn't happen. Her sides started to burn after her sigh. She looked around, trying to find the source of the heat. And she found nothing. Finally, she raised her arms, and her eyes went wide.

"Oh, fuck," Tay said aloud. She did it. Her arms were flaming, and she hadn't a clue on how to stop it. So, she ran to the pool where she would bathe, tripping on the same root. She would have landed face-first into the pool of water, but she stuck and arm out, catching herself. After a moment had passed, she collapsed, sending a few droplets flying.

"Moron," she mumbled, sending bubbles to the top of the water. Tay pushed herself up and into a sitting position, right in front of the pool. She released another sigh, looking around for her satchel, which usually sat nearby. Tay didn't find it at first, thinking she must have misplaced it. She stood up, stumbling and tripping and hopping over, around, and on the roots of trees that searched for the wet soil. Still, her eyes did not land on the satchel.

Returning to her spot, she growled in frustration. Like many of her other belongings, she must have lost the satchel. Ich, she thought, I might have to go into civiliation now.

"Oh well," she grumbled to herself, standing and scanning the area one last time. Looking down at the spot where she'd taken a seat, was where her satchel had lain. A look of utter disappointment crossed her face, and she took a deep breath. She moved to the tree nearest to her, thumping her head against it's tough bark.

"You're an idiot. What would Mum say?" she muttered, ending the thumping. Bending down, she scooped up the satchel, moving back to the tiny clearing.

Tay extracted both Ellemayne and Silverblade, staring at each of them. She tucked the latter into her belt, readying the former. An idea hatched inside her head, and she thought it might just work if she went about this safely.

"Move like a rogue, fight like a monk," she whispered to herself. Tay remembered her old training sequences her father forced her into, thinking now they might be useful. Tay grinned, her words racing through her mind as she pitted herself against imaginary foes. 'Demons' surrounded her, all trying to take her and sacrifice her for some great ritual.

She twirled her dagger, admiring it briefly before rolling to her left. Ellemayne slashed at what would have been a thigh. Tay sprang up from her crouched position and did a backflip to avoid blades that, if real, would mean certain death for her. Her father's signature impish grin played at her lips as she dashed to the right. Another false blade came down on her, and she raises Ellemayne to combat it. Managing to throw the blade away, she buried hers into the false demon's neck. Her thoughts raced through, urging her to not stop, not surrender, until these 'foes' all lay dead on the ground, at her feet.

Two of the false demons lunged at her, and she barely managed to vault over them, sending one to the trees. The other one, in her mind, let out a fearsome roar, and it reminded her of a small nightsaber cub.

"Oh, how adorable," she muttered, the signature grin gracing her lips. Ellemayne's blade was held against her forearm, where she would have been able to bury the blade into a skull with much more ease.

Raising her blade to parry, the 'shing' of metal against metal echoed in her ears. Her impish grin fell from her face and she thought her heart had stopped. This was a real blade, a real person, most likely come to kill her.

"Dammit, why do you people want to kill me?!" Tay spat. The newcomer, a woman shorter than her, smirked. She looked similar to Tay, except her hair was snow white. The woman removed her blade, pulling a silver scroll case from her pouch. She tossed it towards Tay, who picked it up and opened it.

A grey smoke came from the case, making her eyes water and she coughed. Immediately, she realized this to be a failed assassination attempt. No longer was she safe and secluded out here. She'd have to pack up and move.

Sadly, she no longer had Seranthi on this continent, and her hippogryph Buckbeak was in Kalimdor. All she could do is grab her satchel and run. So, she decided to do just that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd reached Paw'don Village in the Jade Forest, more than sure this unknown assassin was still pursuing her. The pandaren peoples of the village eyed her oddly, unsure as to why a strangely dressed kaldorei was here. Tay gave them a smile, and searched for the portal to Stormwind. Lucky and unlucky for her, it was easy to find. The assassin was sure to come through here to find her. Quickly, she stepped through the portal--

And she was looking at a draenei, who stood a head or more taller than her. She spun her head around, seeing she was somewhere near the Blue Recluse.

Luckily, an abandoned home sat nearby, where she could change into her regular battle regalia. She rushed towards there, barging into the empty house and throwing off her drab clothing. Soon enough, she was in her regalia, her staff Oathbreaker hanging on her back.

"Well. . . I could use a drink," she said to herself with a smirk, heading to the tavern. She walked not on the cobble pathway, but next to it, on the uneven grass. Dwarves, humans, pandaren, quel'dorei, and kaldorei all wandered about, socializing with one another. She recognized a few faces, who called her name and greetings. She chuckled, giving them a wave in return.

"Maybe escaping here wasn't a bad idea," she mumbled, stepping into the Recluse. The air smelled of mead, making her mouth water. Upon rounding the corner, she saw a kaldorei woman whose hair was gathered loosely. Her face adorned the facial tattoos of a bear's claws, colored maroon and sporting smaller designs of swirls within the claws.

Tay walked up to this woman, who noticed her immediately. A smirk grew on her face, the woman studying her intently. A mug of ale was in the woman's hand, two empty ones sitting in front of her.

"Hey there. How'd you like to join me for some fun tonight?" Tay flirted, lofting an eyebrow. The woman looked at her, chuckling at the terrible pick-up line. Tay blinked, now confused.

"You do realize I'm your aunt?" the woman replied, adding, "Your only aunt, Kyena?" Tay blinked, studying the face. And then it hit her. This was who helped her escape her father.

"Uhhh, uhm. I-I'm so sorry," she replied, feeling her face burn with embarrassment. Kyena simply shrugged it off, finding it quite amusing. She downed some more ale, moving to the counter to order some more.

She came back with two, offering one to Tay. She accepted the mug, giving Kyena a quick thanks, downing it in three gulps. Now, Tay moved up to the counter, where the bartender wiped out empty mugs. He was a rather chubby human man, with dark brown eyes. His chin was bare, yet above his lips and around them, it was not. His hair was slicked back, receding, and colored the same dark brown as his eyes.

"What'll it be, Knife Ears?" he asked. His voice was heavy, and the 'L' sounding almost like an 'R' instead. Tay pulled out a few gold coins, totaling in at five pieces.

"However much ale this'll buy me, Tubby," she said, insulting him as he did her. The chubby barman slid seven mugs towardd her, a grin appearing on her face. "Thanks, Tubby!" Tay called to the man, who had moved away from her now. She raised one mug in a silent toast, a few people doing the same. Though, she did not see, and downed the mug, already raising another to her lips.

Soon as I find a place, I'm delving for a couple days, she thought. She chuckled as she sipped and savored this mug, all thoughts of the assassination attempt leaving her mind.

"Today's been wild," she murmered, losing herself in the ale.


	9. Unwaking

The white-haired kaldorei woman had followed her, and straight into Dun Morogh's snowy mountains. It scared her, but yet it didn't. The snow was now stained purple, leaving her hiccupping and crying silently to herself. Her right hand was stained in blood, as was the case with Ellemayne. Her bloody hand was raised to her face, covering her mouth and nose, giving her sniffs and hiccups a slight echo. Tears dripped from her face, pattering lightly onto the snow. Her hair, nearly always a perfectly clean pine green, now clumped together in some parts, matted and unkempt, masking parts of her face.

She didn't dare move, fearing an accomplice would pop out. Or, for her, worse; an orphaned child who stared at their mother's corpse. What a liar she would have been, then, using her normal excuse of 'trying to kill me first.' But, she knew, there was no need to slaughter the woman. 

The body lay in front of her, every detail nearly identical to her body. Except, this woman bore less scars, less imperfections. This woman's eyes were silver, not amber, her hair a beautiful snowy white, and her markings a darker purple than her own skin. Finally, her knees screaming at her to stand up, away from the snow, she did. Yet, she simply fell forward again, weeping into the woman's beautifully made leather armoring. It was dark, able to blend with any surrounding, but it reminded her of too many.

After many tears were shed, she moved to the side of the mountain, letting the body of the unknown woman roll down the mountainside. She watched it's dark shape tumble, leaving a light purple trail in it's wake. She thought, right then, it should be her body rolling down the mountain, her body to never be recovered, her to sleep forevermore, never to be awoken again.

"You're a fucking moron," she whimpered, moving to sit down. Her knees screamed in protest, begging her to stand. She felt the cold seep under her skin, freezing her blood, chilling her bone. But, she brought a blanket, yet refused to use it, refused to let her saber, Seranthi, curl up with her and keep her warm.

She crossed her legs, sure parts of her lower half breathing sighs of relief. Her arms rested upon her legs, giving them that natural, warm cushion. As she did this, a weak smild had made it's way upon her lips. And, even though she hadn't intended to, fell into her memories.

Outskirts of the Temple, 698 years ago.

The flowers lay in full bloom, leaves upon their branches rustling together. It felt nice, being away from the confines of the library wing. She needed to get outside a little. Usually, had her cousin not dragged her out of there, she would be found hunched over some musty old tome. She would have an ink and quill beside her, a blank parchment piece next to the inkpot. Sometimes, notes would already be scrawled upon the parchment, and all in what looked like gibberish. 

Yet, she knew what they meant. From those scrolls she'd stolen those years ago, she combined them with incantations to invoke the Goddess, creating evil words in the process. Eventually, they'd have a line through them, but not after she tested them out. 

Now, she sat out in nature, far enough from the Temple, from Kalandra, from those books and her notes. She took in every detail, telling herself to focus upon that. She watched some of the flowers, how their petals would only open under the light of the moon.

"Hey, Tay. Show me that you don't set your arms on fire," commanded a familiar voice. It was her cousin, Nar, carrying an armful of wild moonberries. Tay sighed, knowing her cousin would launch into a rant if she failed her instructions again. She raised a hand, focusing all her energy to her fingertips. The incantation ran through her mind as she gritted her teeth, silently hoping this time would be the time.

And a warmth spread through her, starting at her fingertips and traveling to other parts of her body. Daring to, she looked at her fingertips, seeing the small flicker of Fire. It held the same unearthly glow of Nar's, and carried the same warmth with it, as well.

"Did I do it?" Tay asked curiously, watching the fires recede into nothing. She let out a frustrated sigh, certain she had had it that time. Nar eyed her, a smirk playing at her lips. A chuckle, short, soft, and calm, escaped her mouth. Tay simply stared at her, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, you did. Good job, shortie," Nar finally responded. Tay gave her cousin a firm, yet quick, glare, letting it linger afterwards. Nar simply brushed it off, her cousin being a moody little brat, in her eyes.

"Well, can I sleep? Sun should be rising in an hour or two, but you've been waking me early," she coolly replied. Nar rolled her eyes, giving a hand motion she was free to sleep. She knew, even though Tay was falling asleep, she had to get some, too. She spent far too many days worrying if Tay would have a seizure of some sort.

Nar watched her cousin's breathing relax, knowing sleep came to claim her. And, she finally laid her head to rest, sure this day would not need her constant watch. So, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, while Tay was not very lucky.

"Save us," hissed a voice. It repeated itself, right in her ear. The disembodied voice, the one in her dreams daily, had whispered the lines about the forest, and the fish. She was tempted, tempted to hide within the lies and secrets inside the forest, yet she resisted, more than sure that, once she fled, she would regret it. Her will was strong, and she refused. She didn't believe the whispers, even when it tried to persuade her by using Kalandra. She knew her friend rejected her, and it used the words she hated ever since; Dalah'surfal.

She sat upright, watching the moon rise, the night flowers not even blooming yet. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, the daymares getting shorter, slowly receding, after every night, after every life she took.

"My love," she whispered to herself, letting the words run through her mind. As much as she hated it, the words calmed her, gave her a peace of mind she rarely had. 

Nar started to stir, so she woke herself up some more, hoping this night would go easy. She had a doubt about it, realizing her cousin was known for her insane techniques. Tay rubbed at her eyes, waiting for what was in store.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And the current her did not stir from the memory trance.


	10. Discussions

Seranthi was curled around her owner's body, which now lay half-buried in snow. Her owner had not awoken within the week, and she hunted nearby, not daring to leave her owner alone. Even she knew they would not survive more than two nights in the dwarves' mountains.

Snow sprinkled lightly down, the kaldorei woman's body mostly covered. She looked peaceful, more than she ever had been in the past. Yet, moving up her body, to her face, one would notice the unnatural icey tint to her lips. One could only assume they were frozen together, or simply very cold.

While Seranthi viewed her master and owner in the present, her owner did so in the past, in the form of dreams.

Outskirts of the Temple, two months later.

Taylnar sat on a small cliff's edge, around six feet high. Her brow was furrowed as she let her pine green tresses hang, matted and greasy, around her face. She was deep in thought, unsure of what to teach her pupil. Nothing came to mind, nothing except the War of the Ancients. She recalled being about her pupil's age when it erupted. Nar remembered having just joined the Sisterhood, then being told to take up arms against the invading creatures. She remembered the techniques used by the Sisterhood, by the defender's forces. Everything came swirling back, memories--

A tap on her left shoulder made her head snap up. She turned, find her pupil, Taylande, or simply Tay, standing behind her. In her hand was a blade she had seen far too many times. It was the infamous blade of her family; they called it Silverblade.

"Nar. I have a question." Gone was Tay's normally silly grin, loose-knit brows, and happy expression. It was replaced with a grim line, tightly-knit brows, and a somber look. Nar gritted her teeth, afraid of what the young woman would say.

"Would you miss me if I died?" she asked. The question was startling, causing her to move from her cross-legged position near the cliff. The sun was setting, nearly down over the horizon, and it added the gloomy feel to the already surprising and sad question.

"The fel, Taylande? Of course. What are you, mad?" Nar asked. She embraced Tay in a hug, only to feel her whole body tense up. Soon after, Nar released her from the grasp. She studied her pupil's face, trying to figure out what troubled her. Instead of an answer, she got nothing. Nar shifted her gaze to the dagger in Tay's hand, remembering the number of innocent refugees it had slain. Yet, she noted, it also slew demons as well.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as shs held out her hand. Tay knew this sign, placing the blade in her mentor's palm. Nar's hand closed around it, and she felt both it's physical and non-physical weight. It brought a grim look to her lips.

The dagger itself looked light, the hilt colored a purple darker than the average kaldorei. A single amethyst was in the end of the hilt, not a flaw to be found. Some streaks of orange broke the deep purple, but it wasn't very much. A single black streak of some metal lay in the middle of the surrounding silver of the blade, and it flared like a diamond near the top. At the edges of the flares, two yellow gems colored like sunshine lay embedded. This was most likely some type of yellow diamond, but one would never know for sure if it was.

Nar gave the hilt a squeeze, tucking it back into it's sheath, which hung at Tay's left hip. She smiled quickly, briefly, before giving her a pat on the shoulder and turning to face the cliff. Thankfully, the sun had set, leaving the moon to climb higher in the sky as night pressed on. She took in a deep breath of the clear air, faintly hearing Tay do the same. She smirked, more than sure her cousin idolized her.

"We should return to the temple, soon. The others will get curious," Tay finally said. Nar, for once, agreed, turning abruptly on her heel and beckoning the younger of the pair. Tay followed obediently, through the little wood which lay in between, and through the Temple Gardens.

Their rather short trip was done in silence, the only sounds made by the woods and it's inhabitants. Nar enjoyed this sound, careful not to interrupt it's steady flow, which reminded her of the gentle wooshing of the tides.

"Hail, Sister Taylnar, Sister Taylande!" called the guard, an elder priestess with midnight blue hair. Her markings were colored a light shade of magenta, shaped like two leaves. Though, most of this was covered by a helmet, with a nose guard nearly covering her entire face. She wore a simple breastplate engraved with a crescent moon, and a long, flowing, silk skirt, under which she most likely wore plated or leather leggings. The silvery-colored boots pokes out from the beautiful skirt, barely visible. In her hand was a glaive, crossed over her chest, right now positioned in a formal greeting to the pair.

"And I hail you, Sister Niliannis," Nar greeted, her right arm barred across her breasts. She had chosen to become more formal as the nights went on, sure something bad was around the corner. Yet, everyone, excluding Tay and Kalandra, called her crazy, too alert. 

Niliannis, the door sentry, nodded to them, motioning for the pair to enter, if they werd going to. Tay immediately thanked her, speed-walking straight to her bed for a good nap. Nar followed Tay, sighing as she saw her pupil had fallen asleep already. She sighed, wondering if this was a family thing or sleep came easier to the girl than others. She decided upon the latter, a smirk growing across her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You know where I came from, Nar?" Tay mumbled. Nar barely caught what she said, the rustling of the leaves becoming much too loud. The winds were moving rather crazily, blowing the tree branches this way and that.

"I do. Why?" she responded coolly. She felt a stone form in her stomach, more than sure Tay would ask to return. Nar already had her answer formed when she heard a muffled, "I was hoping to burn it, to get rid of the memories." Her entire body had stiffened. Did Tay not understand that one could not outrun the past? Sometimes, she swore Tay was a moron. Yet, iy made her chuckle, which started a heated argument on whether or not she could commence with her burning plan. 

After a long, angering talk about the matter, Nar finally gave in. "Alright," she grumbled, "Fine. But, I will be accompanying you. Pack your things."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And, in the waking world, Tay still did not wake, not at all.


	11. Burning

In the distance, the large white saber saw a traveler. A low, threatening growl escaped the large cat's maw. It was a warning for the traveler and any other unknown threat. Yet, despite the growl, the traveler kept moving forward, towards the cat and half-covered shape in the snow. The growl grew larger, and so did the shape of the traveler.

The growl was now almost a roar, but the saber then went passive, something about this shape being familiar. The traveler moved closer, almost close enough to reach out and touch the giant cat's muzzle.

"Sera, you smart cat. Now let me get this moron," said the traveler. She stood well over seven feet, her voice a mix of the freezing winds of Winterspring and the warmest of the Stranglethorn Jungles. Her silver eyes glowed, yet they were half-lidded due to Dun Morogh's biting cold. She held a feminine shape, being quite curvy, even for the females of her race.

"So, if you'd like to help my idiot of a sister, come along, Sera," the traveler beckoned, viewing now her sister's frozen body, now possibly a corpse. 

While this went on, the traveler's sister was still in her dreams, reliving her life.

Outskirts of the Temple, 698 years ago.

Nar no longer wore the simple silk garments of the Sisterhood, now sporting a more. . . warrior-like look. She donned now a hooded cloak and chain armor, a large sword on her back. Now, she looked more like someone's bodyguard than a simple priestess.

Slung over her right shoulder was a pack, and at her left was her night saber, Fluffy. As she glanced around, she took time to admire the cat's dark, raven colored pelt.

"You named your saber Fluffy?" asked an unamused voice. Nar recognized the voice of her cousin immediately. A silly grin appeared on her face.

"What, you don't like my names? Besides, she is quite the furball," Nar replied, turning around to see the dismal look on her cousin's face. Nar let out a sigh, shaking her head.

"Can we go? I'd like to burn something," she snarled. Nar rolled her eyes, becoming quite tired of her cousin's constant whining and gloom. She took in a deep breath, resisting the urge to smack the other girl.

"Taylande, Tay, whatever you're called, shut up so I can get this over with," Nar growled. Tay glared at her, mounting the giant cat. The cat, Fluffy, started a growl, but Nar quickly silenced that by placing herself behind Tay. As Nar gripped the reins, she dug her knee into the cat's side, starting them off at a steady pace. She knew, to get this over with quicker, they'd have to move through the woods. Why she was doing this, she had absolutely no idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After some few hours had passed, the duo was nowhere near their goal. Nar was already wanting to turn back, to tell her cousin and pupil this was stupid, that you couldn't fun from the past. Yet, she would let her cousin believe this. Tay let out an almost silent sigh, sure her mentor thought her an idiot. She wanted to burn this place not to run, but so she couldn't ever turn back.

They dismounted the giant raven-furred cat, setting up a small camp. Though, it was simply just a bedroll, and nothing more. Nar refused to set up a fire, arguing that people would find them with the smoke.

"You should go to sleep. No reason to watch me as I rest," Tay blurted, starting to see the first signs of dawn. Nar lofted a brow, eyeing Tay skeptically. She didn't believe her cousin, yet decided to take her advice. Nar settled down, tucking herself in her cloak to rest. Tay still sat awake, staring about the giant wooded area. She pushed her cloak back, having concealed Silverblade there. Luckily, Nar hadn't found it.

She sniffed the air, placing her hand upon the dagger's hilt. Immediately, she recalled those she had killed, using this dagger. She felt her body was weighted down, held in place by her father. Tay gritted her teeth, removing her hand from the blade. Soon after, the memories of the lives she'd taken faded, leaving her clutching at her head and fearing if she slept, the thoughts would return. 

So, she stood, the dagger still at her side, and strolled about the woods. Though, she did not stray too far, as to not risk Nar fretting. She eyed the towering trees, longing to climb them. Yet, why she didn't, baffled even herself. After a few more yards, Tay turned back, moving towards their makeshift camp. She saw Nar, still snoring like a bear, and smirked. She moved past her mentor, falling onto the bedroll she had spread out. Tay immediately fell asleep, the daymare already coming to her.

"Have you had the dream again? A black nightsaber with seven eyes, that watches from the outside?" The voice had a slight hiss to it, echoing in her mind. She was in the house again, staring out as her father held out his hand, beckoning her forward. His other hand rested on the cat's seven-eyed head. Fanarol's face was whole again, the unnerving amber eyes staring at her.

He raised his hand, beckoning once more. Then his face twisted, suddenly becoming more demonic. One of the unnerving amber eyes oozed out, falling in front of the cat. The skin on the right side of his face burned away, the muscle melting off. Some remained, but it was mostly his skull, stains of his blood still visible. The nightsaber leaned down, lapping up what had fallen off his face. Soon after, it looked back up, staring, unmoving, like a statue.

Fanarol's mouth opened, but the voice that came from him was not his own. "I am the luc--"

And she was on Fluffy, a cloth in her mouth as the screams were muffled, dying down. Nar sat behind her, a concerned look on her face. She looked down at Tay briefly, urging the saber on. 

"We're almost here, almost, I swear. Burn this place and be done with it," Nar hissed. Tay detected a note of worry and caring in her voice, causing her face to twist in anger. She pulled the cloth from her mouth, glaring at Nar.

"Don't you ever care for me! I don't want it and I don't fucking need it," Tay spat. Nar was startled, mostly due to the foul language used. Yet, she said nothing, the words racing through her head, trying to make sense of it throughout the last leg of their journey.

Finally, they arrived at Fanarol's old home. The door still lay open, half hanging on it's hinges. A window was busted, and the trees that hung gloomily over it remained unchanged. Tay dismouned the raven-furred Fluffy, moving warily towards the house. She dared not remove Silverblade from it's leather sheath, for fear of the memories returning. Slowly, cautiously, she moved inside, while Nar pulled the supplies needed to burn the house from her pack.

Tay surveyed the small landing carefully, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She saw nothing, turning to find her father's room. She made her way through the cluttered kitchen, seeing spiders had made their home in there. In her father's room, she saw the branding iron, fear welling up inside her. She resisted the urge to run, moving towards the dressers. She saw nothing up top, then opened the first drawer. 

Inside, a razor sharp, silver and blue blade lay within. Her eyes widened, and she grasped it by the hilt. Underneath, there was a note, scrawled in her father's handwriting. It read, "The blade is Ellemayne. May it serve you well in all of your endeavors."

She muttered this to herself, taking the note and flipping it over. Illegible Darnassian was scrawled upon this, along with a signature she could not decipher. Yet, she tucked that in a hidden pocket on her person. Returning outside, she saw Nar holding a small torch, the flames licking the small branch. Nar moved forward, handing it to Tay. She fought back a smirk, taking the torch in her free hand, laying it at the most flammable part of the house. 

And together they watched it go up in flames. Tay felt satisfacion in doing so, yet she narrowed her eyes, scanning the woods. And then she realized someone besides Nar was watching her. The eyes were cold, cruel, and unforgiving. They were the eyes of a malevolent person, and Tay could only guess it was someone she knew. These eyes she wanted to run from, for they were not the kind, watchful eyes of the woman who rescued her from this place.

"Nar, Nar! Come on, we need to go, now!" Tay begged. Her mentor nodded, thinking she was overreacting. And so, the two quickly mounted Fluffy, returning to the temple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Thank you, Sera. You're a good cat. Come now, and we'll get Tay back to normal," the traveler said, beckoning the large cat. Seranthi obeyed, following her owner's sister to wherever they needed to go to.


	12. Crumbling

Days had passed as the strange woman wandered along, in search of a portal or a boat that could bring her to Kalimdor. She was in the company of an unconsious kaldorei woman, and a large, snow-white riding cat. The cat followed along willingly, carrying the unconsious woman on her back, as if she weighed nothing.

Still, as day turned to night and night to day, the strange woman and her companions found no portal, no boat, and continued to travel. She refused to travel into the city of Stormwind, but the cat did not question this. On and on they traveled, down through Duskwood, and into Stranglethorn Vale. The strange woman was, most likely, leading her company to the goblin port of Booty Bay. 

As she traveled, the unconcious woman did not once stir from her rest.

Temple Gardens, 696 years ago.

The smell of smoke still lingered in her nostrils. She recalled the way it curled, climbing ever higher into the sky, and the feeling of the eyes upon her. The memory that stuck out to her the most was her mentor's unsettling grin that made her squirm in her place.

Something about that grin she'd worn was familiar, yer foreign at the same time. Her mentor never spoke of the events that took place that night, not once mentioning when she spoke with the other priestesses. The dagger she found had lain hidden underneath her robes since then. The hastily scribbled note she found stayed with her as well. She'd take it out, read it over, and place it back in a hidden pocket, where it resided til she removed it again.

A knock disturbed her, pulling her out of her mind, once again. She realized she was sitting on a bench within the gardens, thinking the knock would have come from a bird in the forest. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking furiously as to let her vision adjust. 

"Hey, Tay!" called an enthusiastic voice. It came from behind, scaring her. She jumped in her seat, falling onto the ground. Though, she caught herself, preventing her face from slamming against the hard-packed earth. Tay blinked again, standing herself up, and looked behind her. It was her mentor, grinning ear-to-ear like she'd just won some tournament. She glared, her mentor starting to laugh. 

"I hate you so much. Anyways, what is it?" she grumbled, glancing around. As she waited for her mentor's response, she let her eyes wander, studying the structure of the temple. A stupid idea of trying to climb the building crossed her mind, though she dismissed it. A pain spread from her left cheek, then moved across her face. Her cheek felt hot, like something was slammed into it. She tried placing what it was, though the heat on her face distracted her. She realized her mentor's fist was balled, and all mirth and joy was wiped from her face. She concluded she was either slapped or punched.

"I said that you've a visitor," her mentor stated. Tay furrowed her brow, unsure of who would be asking for her. Before she ran off on a hunt for whoever expected her, she asked, "They at the entrance, Nar?"

Nar nodded, beckoning her student with a hand, her sign to follow. Tay strolled behind Nar like an eager child about to recieve a gift. Nar took a glance this way and that, as if she were waiting for someone to attack. As they rounded the corner, both females saw a familiar shape that brought a smile to their usually gloomy faces. Tay took off like lightning, rushing forward to meet the visitor. Nar rolled her eyes, casually strolling forward and extending a hand towards the familiar guest. 

"Hail, Sentinel Elariel," Nar greeted. Elariel extended her hand, clasping her cousin's in a firm grip. The two women looked pleased to see each other, while Tay, a good few heads shorter than both, stared at the sentinel with bright eyes.

"Lariel, sister!" Tay exclaimed, acting more like an innocent child than a maturing adolescence. Her sister let out a low chuckle, her voice being deep, even for a kaldorei. Elariel patted her younger sibling on the back, for they'd not seen one another for a time. 

"Before you ask, I have been completely safe and fine, like you yourself seem to be," she replied. Nar smirked, enjoying this little meet between sisters. It reminded her of her own family, who'd perished during the War of the Ancients. She grinned as they socialized outside the temple for nearly two hours, both explaining what had been going on within their lives. Thankfully, Tay did not mention anything. . . bad.

"I should pull this hyper rabbit back to her studies. I am so sorry for this. Hopefully you can drop by some other time," Nar replied, not liking the thought of her cousin leaving. Elariel nodded, giving her younger sibling a quick hug. She turned to Nar, shaking her hand in a farewell. Tay watched, failing to see the note her elder sibling passed to her mentor. 

Elariel nodded to the sentry who stood guard at the door, turning on her booted heel to take her leave. Nar watched as her cousin fastened her gauntlets and adjusted her helm, sighing sadly to herself. Soon, the wooded area she faced had swallowed the sentinel captain, leaving the air empty and stagnant. 

"I still don't see how she has time for this," Tay heard her cousin mumble. She watched as her mentor unfolded the small piece of parchment and read it over. She tried to take a peek at the note, but Nar proved the quicker one and dodged, rushing off to the side. Tay rolled her eyes, seeing the moon climbing higher and higher, the minutes slowly ticking by. Finally, her cousin and mentor tucked the note away, and clapped her hand together. 

"Alright! You don't set your arms on fire anymore, so. . . Try to control my mind," Nar said. The guard nearly piped up with a shocked comment, but with a quick glare she was silenced. Nar started towards the area straight past the gardens, leaving Tay scrambling to catch up. Nar glanced back, almost laughing aloud at her short pupil, who was already out of breath from her short sprint. 

As Tay caught up, Nar gave her the incantation used to do so. Hearing this, Tay had to fight off a smirk, and intsead asked, "How do you know this?" with a confused look. 

"Let's just say my father wasn't the nicest man," she replied with a smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tay awoke to the smell of something being brewed. It smelled heavenly, like mint mixed with some sort of pandaren chai. She detected a faint trace of cinnamon and honey, but not much beyond that. 

"Hey, you're finally awake," said a familiar voice. It was cold as Winterspring winds, and as warm as Stranglethorn jungles. It brought a look of disgust to her face. Glancing around, she saw open walls, and could only guess she was somewhere of kaldorei origin. 

"Elariel," she hissed. The woman turned to face her, and Tay saw she was correct. "Why am I here?" she snarled, gritting her teeth. 

"I could at least get a 'thanks,' you ungrateful maggot," her sister spat back. Tay's hand flew to her waist, feeling around for the hilt of Ellemayne, but unable to find it. She whipped her head to the left, seeing not Ellemayne, but Silverblade on the bedside stand. 

"Don't call me that!" Tay roared, grasping the blade's hilt and lunging at her sister. Elariel quickly rushed to the side, morphing into the form of a large bear. A cry of anger escaped her lips as she rushed at her sister, now a bear. Elariel, proving to be the smarter one, stood up onto her hind legs and swatted the blade away, managing to rake a claw across Tay's right eye as she was rushing for the blade. 

"Damn you!" she screeched, grabbing Silverblade and straightening up. Her sister let out a grunt, charging to meet her. Tay raised the dagger to bring it down on Elariel's head, but instead recieved a headbutt to her stomach, causing her to double over in pain. Soon enough, she fell onto the floor, curled into a fetal position. 

Elariel shifted forms, now a cat, and pounced onto her younger, rather idiotic, sibling. Tay rolled onto her back and simply stared at her with those familiar, stubborn amber eyes. 

"Kill me, I dare you. Bitch," she grunted. Elariel hissed, biting down hard onto Tay's right shoulder. This pulled out a cry of pain, purple blood seeping from the nasty looking wound. Elariel shifted back to her humanoid form, exiting the now ruined house. She could still hear her sister's cries of pain, but didn't rush back inside to help. 

As she walked of, she muttered to herself, "Stupid girl. I've saved your ass time and time again. Have fun." An unsettling grin crossed her face as she silently rejoiced in the pain. "I wonder how long it'll take you to find that note about where to find Father," she whispered to an absent Taylande.


	13. Aftermath

Her breathing was ragged, the house rather cluttered after their brawl. She dared not stand, for she feared seeing how much blood she'd lost. Yet, she knew she had to. After pondering this for a spell, she stood, blinking away the blurriness in her vision. Things did not come into focus immediately. She kept a hand on her bleeding shoulder, an eye still closed. Her good eye scanned the area, trying to see what all there was, in medical supplies. Nothing stuck out. Yet, a small, tattered piece of parchment did. Her brow furrowed, and she thought this a trick. 

Moving slowly forward, she waited for something to jump out, to attack her and finish her off. Slowly, hesitantly, she placed one foot forward. And then another. Still, no attack. She inched forwards once more, making her way to the damaged little table upon which the parchmebt rested. 

Tentatively, she reached out a hand and let it hover above the parchment. She thought this was where the trap would be, or some form of ambush. Daring to, she grasped the parchment and brought it closer, as to read it easier. Upon the parchment, numbers were inked upon it. In anger, she roared, yet it sounded hoarse, in need of a drink. Yet still, she forced herself to read on, eye slowly going over the parchmebt. Upon it, only two words, inscribed in the kaldorei's native tongue, were on the parchment; 'Have fun.' 

Her sister's handwriting was straight, easy to read, and it angered her. In her writes, she showed next to no emotion, and for once wished she had what her sister had. Instinctively, out of habit, she slammed her hand into the nearest thing. A wince of pain crossed her face for a fraction of a second, leaving quickly, as if it were never there. 

"Fucking coordinates. FUCKING NUMBERS," she screamed. If her sister was playing a joke, it was not good, or funny. Once again, her hand struck wood. And it did so again, until her hand dripped purple and pattered lightly every so often onto the wooden floor. 

Moving swiftly over to her supply bag, she snatched it up with her bloody hand. She didn't care that her hand screamed for some form of relief, not at all. In fact, she welcomed it, thought she deserved it. Quickly, quickly as she could, she stumbled through the house, tripping on objects she somehow managed to avoid before. She nearly fell onto the floor, which would have bloodied her nose easily, and let her eyes dart about before she left the cluttered home. 

Knowing her journey would be long, she dwelled upon the past.

Temple Gardens, those years ago.

"No," she quickly hissed, the malicious grin gone from her lips. Her mentor's eyes were wide, wider than she ever thought they could get. Yet they seemed to stare through her flesh, into her very soul. 

"Nar, this doesn't sound like you. Think," she spat to her teacher. Nar narrowed her eyes, thinking something. But, it was something her pupil did not know. The defiance in her student's amber orbs burned like the fires she'd seen during the wars; they were bright, strong. A snarl came to Nar's lips, a venomous retort on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she said nothing foul, rude. 

"Very well. If you don't do what you're told, Tay, go and rest," Nar replied, "You've the night off." For a moment, Tay saw Nar's amber colored eyes flicker in what could only be anger. But she recalled her cousin and mentor having silver orbs, not amber like hers. Defiance was replaced, then, with suspicion as both females stalked off in different directions; Nar to a cliff, Tay to the Temple. Not once did they look towards one another, instead caught up in their petty feud. 

The guard at the door, the same one still, gave the short female a nod. Tay glared, hating how others had the height she did not yet sport. But, she knew, once she did, she might possibly be taller than others. And, the thought excited her. Still stalking towards her room, she failed to notice as another disciple, Daleera, eyed her with a look of utter disgust. As of now, though, the young kaldorei did not care, so long as she found a good book to lose herself in. 

Reaching her room, she cautiously peered in, hoping her roommate, Kalandra, would not be within. Instead, much to her dismay, the older girl was. Tay released a very quiet gasp, barely audible to even kaldorei ears. 

"Ishnu'alah, Kalandra. Have you a good book?" Tay asked, trying to make their being nearby less awkward. She hated this, for the memory of trying to seduce her friend still burned fresh in her mind, most likely the samd with her friend. Kalandra nodded, quickly producing a book from under her mattress, tossing it to the younger female. Tay caught it, slowly feeling every part of it's dark brown leather binding, the pages yellowed with age. Flipping the leather-bound book to it's front, she saw it was of myths regarding the ancient city Aru'talis. 

She opened it eagerly, finding herself already lost within it's contents. How her friend found this, she'd not a clue, and did not bother to ask. All that mattered was finishing up the book and getting prepared for an odd night with her mentor. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But as the young kaldorei read on, she failed to notice night turning into day. Only when her acquaintance gave her a quick shake did she pull her nose back, amber eyes darting rapidly to and fro. The other female gave her a gentle smile, glancing up at the window where sunlight filtered through.  
Tay sighed, rather saddened she would have to return to the nightmarish landscape she found herself in. Yet, she laid the book down, scooting over towards her bed. She pulled herself upon it, then realizing how tired she really was. And soon, sleep claimed her. 

Looking out of the window, she felt her blood run cold. The saber stretched it's maw wide, it's tongue--no, a tentacle--lolled out, then seeming to slither closer. No longer could she take simply sitting and watching, paralyzed with fear. She forced her legs to stand, and moved towards the door. And then, she couldn't breathe. Not when she tried, not when she thought to command herself to. 

Something was choking her, and the forest grew darker. Still, she moved towards the door, her legs like stones she was forced to lift, and put down once again. Why she kept moving forwards, she did not know, not fully. She knew she had to find out what was inside the forest, away from the clearing she constantly sat in; she also figured out she had to escape the gaze of the seven-eyed beast, to reach the other side. Still, she doubted the "other side" remained the same. But, she still had to try, try and--

"Fail," echoed a voice. It sounded as cold as ice, sounded as if multiple mouths with the same voice said it. She thought the blood gone, so cold was it now. Her heart, she thought, must have stopped from simply hearing it. And her skin felt cold, as if water were spilling off her. Now she wanted only to run. She wanted to run and never return. But she knew, every morning she would return here, that running was no use. 

She realized her hand was upon the doorknob, gripping it in fear. The voice echoed once more inside her mind, saying, "You will never. . . Escape." But she knew she had to try. She twisted the knob, the door swinging open with a 'click.' And then she stepped outside. She still felt like something was choking her, but water, ice cold, still seemed to run off of her, and her legs no longer stones. She strode, fear in her heart, towards the seven-eyed nightsaber. And it's maw closed, the tentacle slithering back into it's mouth like liquid. It made her wanted to throw up, so unnatural it looked. 

The beast raised it's massive forepaw, bringing it swiftly, forcefully down upon her right shoulder. A green ooze seeped from the wound, leaving three diagonal claw marks on her person. And then she felt a hand on her shoulder. 

Slowly, she turned her head. Her heart hammered against her ribcage. The carved off flesh and meat of her father's face came into view. A scream rose in her throat, and she immediately rushed into the comfort of the leaking forest, leaving the clearing and nightsaber behind. As she fled, she heard the form of her crazed father crashing through behind her. And she heard him shouting words in a voice that was not his, but of the cold, blood-freezing voice; "Flee, screaming into the forest!" 

And she woke up, her throat raw, as if she had been screaming all day and all night. Her right shoulder screamed in pain. Sweat rolled off her person, and the view of a wooded area filled her eyes. Immediately, her first reaction was to scream, stand up, and-- 

"Don't run, Tay, please," begged an unforgettable voice. Turning her head, the face of her cousin and mentor was nearby. Instead, of fear, rage filled her, rage from their petty squabble. 

"Whoever's changing your mind, give me my sister back," she spat, pulling herself to her feet. Nar, instead of chasing her, simply sat and watched as her pupil stormed off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She pulled herself from the aftermath, recalling the pain that shot through her. Yet still, she hated the thought of those nightmares, for they brought her fears to life. 

"Quit it, Taylande. You're scaring yourself," she said only to herself. She trudged on, following the road in hopes of finding a town, hoping to quell the bloodied wounds she bore on her person.


	14. Power

Coughing and gasping for air, she stumbled along, having lost herself in the forests she should have known. But, this was proof she did not. She carried on, hoping to find her way out, but only succeeded in finding even more trees, and even more plants and small animals.

She stopped, falling to the ground with a thudding noise. Her body ached, shoulder still bleeding and her eye closed from swelling. Everything felt fuzzy, looked hazy, as if she just woke up from a hangover. Her breathing was ragged as she went to stand, but she simply fell down again. She curled into a ball, gritting her teeth together as she took in a shallow, weak, breath.

Then, she simply laid there. Her eyes closed and fluttered open, so tired from the pain was she. Taking in another breath, this time larger, she only ended up coughing and spitting up mucus. She heard something approach her, and whatever it was bent down to sniff her. She felt it's wet nose push up against her arm, sending chills down her body. She could only hope that it would think her dead, and leave her be.

It did, stalking off back towards the way it came. She waited until she thought it safe, and finally forced herself to stand. Everything screamed at her to lay back down, but she did not give in. Her wounds felt like they were on fire, and infection started to take hold of them. But she refused to heal herself.

"Dammit. . . Tay," she wheezed. "Find your bitch of a. . . Sister." She intended to carry out her plan, and she silently swore to do so. She started to travel towards what she thought to be the way out, and started to dwell upon the past, trying to find out what she could use against her sister.

Unknown location, 678 years ago.

Her legs carried her swiftly through the forest. Crashes came from behind her and she refused to look back. Her body screamed at her to go faster, but it was going, already, at top speed. Her breathing was slowly and steadily going off of track. Something called out behind her, screaming untintelligible words that sounded to be of gibberish. It kept pursuing her, pushing her past what she thought possible. It kept screaming, calling, telling her--

She tripped. Her body was flung forward, and she tried to backflip herself to her correct position. But as her hands hit the ground, her arms collapsed, and she could not move."Power. . .ful. . ." it gurgled. She felt her blood boil, and freeze, and boil again. A scream rose in her throat as she watched the figure, veiled in shadow, advance upon her.

It shrank into a much more feminine, yet muscled, and familiar form; Nar. It changed, matching her features. The three clawmark scars on the left side of her jaw, the subtle fade of her pine-green colored tresses, purple roots, her starlight silver orbs, and every part of Nar was there.

The scream became a choking noise in her mouth, and then she could not breathe. Her sides felt like they were collapsing inwards, and her heart felt as if it were skipping every other beat. Blood started to drip down from her "cousin's" eyes, dark purple droplets carving a path across her face. She watched as her false cousin's eyes melted like wax, watched a scream of terror become etched along her face, and could only stare as her relative melted into a small pool of dark purple blood.

And then she took in a shuddering gasp, staring as moonlight flooded through the temple's windows, giving the flora an unnatural glow. She forgot that she'd fallen asleep in the gardens the day before, but this was a welcoming sight to wake up to. It made life seem normal, and not the hell she was forced to survive in.

People now milled about the area, few faces she recognized among the crowd. She knew she should have known them all, the large group all female. Yet, she still watched as they went to whatever they had to do.

"Hey there, little sister," called a voice. Before she knew it, Nar was standing in front of her, perfectly fine and unharmed. "You've a note from Lariel," she added to her greeting. Nar quickly produced a folded piece of parchment from one of the folds of her robes.

"Uhh, you could just read it, so the both of us can know," Tay replied. Nar, having not realized that, hesitated as to think. She quickly nodded, chuckling, as she unfolded the parchment. Tay watched her mentor's eyes flit across the straight, emotionless handwriting.

"Alright. . . It simply informs that she's given birth to a male and female, that you're an aunt. The two are twins, quite obviously. She wants you to see them, if you can. And she also says to not be swayed. . . Whatever that means," Nar read. She dragged out the last word she read, and Tay's face was drained of color. She silently hoped her mentor didn't notice her paleness, and watched carefully as the letter was tucked into the robe's folds once again.

"S-so, what are we doing tonight?" Tay asked, her color starting to return. Nar stared at her with an odd look for a moment, then snapped her fingers as if she just recalled something. Waiting patiently, she watched her cousin disappear around the corner of a wall. After a minute, she came racing back towards her with a staff in hand. It was simple, wrappings on the places where one's hands would go, made from the bark of a tree. It held no elegant design to it, and was most likely used for some form of practicing or drill.

"Yes, I'll be teaching you," she placed emphasis upon the last word, "how to channel Elune's Fire through a weapon." Tay's eyes lit up in excitement, and she nearly jumped from her seat. Her mentor smirked, eyes flickering amber for less than a second. Nar beckoned for her student to follow, and the younger female did . She looked behind her every so often, and kept noting how fast her student seemed to be gaining inches. It brought a smile to her face, though she didn't know exactly why it had, not at all.

Pausing, the two females looked around. Nobody was nearby, but not a single person was too far away, in case they needed aid. Tay blinked her eyes, waiting patiently for her mentor to begin with a demonstration and the incantation.

"The words are the same. Just think of the weapon as a sort of extention," Nar instructed. She positioned her feet to where they were square with her shoulders, pointing the simply-carved staff at a treebranch near to Tay's head.

She watched as Nar's lips moved silently, mouthing the words to the spell. Tay felt her head get dizzy as the bright, beautiful, and unnatural flames burst from the tip of the staff. The world suddenly spun, and everything got fuzzy. And then she collapsed where she stood.

Blinking, she raised a hand and rubbed at her eyes, glancing around rapidly. She lay outside the cabin, in the forest's clearing. Her heart began to pound as she pushed herself to her feet, rapidly spinning her head around in fear. A nightsaber stepped out from the shadows of the trees. It stared at her, stalking forward until it stood right at her feet. No tentacles burst from it's mouth, no eyes fell out of it's head and rolled towards her, and it seemed to be a normal, large cat, besides having an extra five eyes.

"Make you powerful. I can give you strength," it echoed. The voice that came from the beast's maw was the same voice as all the others, and her blood was again frozen. It was offering her strength, tempting her with deals.

"I. . . Do _not_ want power," she found herself saying. It told her she would have less daymares if she accepted, and to chant unintelligible words to seal the deal. She started to chant, her mind screaming at her to stop. She thought she couldn't, that she'd accept this deal and be forever fine. But, she stopped.

And then, in her heart, something burned. It burned hotter than anything she'd ever dealt with, hotter than the repeated brandings of her father, hotter than the coals in the fireplace. It seemed to freeze her as well, colder than she thought was even possible. Defiance, she recognized. This was how it felt.

And she was awake again, laying in her bed, sweat rolling off her body in waves. Her eyes darted frantically around the room, and she caught a glimpse of an empty room and a note. She reluctantly pushed herself up, placing her feet on the ground, and moving to the note.

She reached it, seeing the writing looked as if it were done hastily. Her eyes narrowed as she struggled to read it. Quietly, she read aloud; "Tay, you seemed exhausted. I brought you here to sleep, told the others you needed it after having awoken during daylight. Get as much as you need. Yours always, Nar."

A smirk crossed her face as she flopped back onto her bed, trying to drift back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stumbled along, her blood beginning to crust around her wound's edges. She dared not scream in agony, instead allowing herself grunts. A sharp intake of breath was all it took and she nearly fell down again.

But, she refused only stumbling before righting herself as she trudged through the forest, hoping to catch up to Elariel.


	15. Screw Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS I SWEAR.

Never before had she been so lost. Hopelessly, she tripped and stumbled through Ashenvale, more than sure she would be running around in circles within the hour. Her eyesight slowly failed her, blurring out beasts and making them look like moving shadows in the night. She felt exhaustion creeping up on her, threatening to take her down. Her feet, once so light and quick, felt as if they were stones, slowly weighing her down for the prowlers within the forest.

"You're a damned idiot. Go south, Tay, south," she wheezed to herself. Swiveling her head around, she struggled to remember which way was south, and which was north. She took in a rugged breath, shaking her head left and right and picking a random direction. Tay didn't care anymore, only longed to find her way out. She picked up her pace, starting at a steady jog, but it sent sharp lances of pain through her body. Shallow, ragged gasps for air were the only thing that kept her moving, and the thought of escaping the forest. 

Her feet slammed into the ground, causing her to instinctively bite down on her lip. Instead of dulling the pain, it would only increase, only result in more wounds and more blood flowing out of her body. Blood still seeped out of the wounds upon her person, though slower than it originally was. It clotted up on her skin, making her look a rugged and weak person, lost in the woods. Though, she thought, it is actually quite true at this point.

One of her hands absentmindedly reached over to feel her shoulder, which had been injured in the fight with her half-sibling. It felt rough in places, as if something had stuck to her and refused to remove itself. Her swollen eye could only open a little, and so she turned her head to look at her shoulder. Her eye had closed up again, the dull light to bright for even it to see. A small smirk crossed her face as she saw she was right. Blood was clotting, yet her skin was stained all the way to her elbow from blood loss.

She picked up her pace, having slowed down to look at her wound. Her eye closed up again, and she felt her feet moving faster and faster. She had to be racing against time, and her feet ached, begging for rest as they had been for the past few hours. A grunt escaped her lips as she stumbled, falling back onto the hard-packed earth, worn from constant feet across it. A wetness formed on her feet, and she knew it had to be blood. 

"Damn. Where'd I go wrong?" she muttered, picking herself up and beginning her sprint again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ashenvale, currently Felwood, 355 years ago.

"Oi! Short stuff, I'd hurry. I found someone who you might know!" called a deep-throated voice. It was female, one could tell, with a deeper voice than most others in her society. The woman chuckled, though it came out sounding controlled, like someone was making her do so. It stopped after a few moments had gone by, as if it were used to pass the time as she waited for someone.

"I'm. . . almost your height, Nar!" replied a younger voice, more feminine sounding than the previous, gasping as she raced towards the woman who had called out. Her footfalls were silent as they pushed against the grassy plain, hopping over roots that tried to snag and trip her feet. The younger female's head of pine green hair reached down to her waist, flying back behind her as she ran. It would sometimes adjust itself to where it was right in her face, nearly blinding her as she flew after the sound of the other woman's deep-throated chuckle.

Finally, she reached the woman, who stood with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. A man lay, tied up in thick, interlacing vines that had been hacked off from the trees and their branches. Half his face was gone, his skull showing. Parts of flesh and meat still clung hopelessly to his face, some seeming to hang and swing off his face when he struggled against his bindings. An eyesocket was empty, with nothing but nerves and string of his inner workings hanging down to try and mask the blackness that rest there. 

The younger female, still gasping for breath, whipped her head away and gagged vehemently. The elder, the one called Nar, tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow, confused as to why the younger female acted sick. Nar glanced down at the man who was tied up, and grinned impishly at him. She turned her head away to stare patiently at the still-gagging form of the younger female. She rolled her eyes and began to tap her foot every so often to occupy herself from her draining patience.

"Alright, Tay. I get it. You find males repulsive and would prefer a woman like yourself," Nar exclaimed. Tay whipped her head around to give the woman a quick, unamused glare. She turned her gaze to the man who lay at Nar's feet, struggling like a wild animal trapped in a hunter's net. A cold, insane-looking grin spread far across Tay's face, threatening to split her head as it grew.

His facial hair was unevenly shaved, parts of it stubble-like and others grown out finely, while other patchy areas were stretching down to his neck and past that, to his chest. His hair, on the other hand, was bound in a ponytail that flowed down to his waist. The beard, patchy as it was, was colored a deep purple in color, his ponytail only slightly lighter in coloring. The one remaining eye in his head flickered silver and amber, full of fear.

"Father," Tay cruelly spat, "Nice to see you again. I don't think the Goddess will allow you into her realm. So, suffer, as I did." Nar's eyes went wide, flickering between silver and amber as the bound man's did. Tay shoved Nar behind her, rolling her neck as the bones snapped and cracked loud enough for the two others to hear. She reached into her robes, white as the moon's light on a darkened night, pulling a blade which glowed blue. It's blade curved, ending in a sharp point. The edge of the blade was jagged, like a razor might have been. Upon sight, it looked to be ice-cold to the touch, but one could not say for certain.

"I bet you remember this. Ellemayne, the Reaver," Tay hissed. She lowered herself to her knees, sitting right beside him. She raised the blade to his remaining eye, poking and prodding the flesh around the socket, as if she intended to carve it out. Blood trickled lightly out of a few shallow cuts made from the blade's tip. Tay guided Ellemayne to his chest, jabbing at the areas closest to her father's heart and lungs. A high-pitched, shrill chuckle escaped her lips, while her father gasped in pain and fear.

Nar stood nearby, too enticed to watch. She watched as blood rolled off his person, slowly rolling down his sides. She knew the wounds weren't deep enough to be fatal, but, with enough blood loss, they would be. She tensed as she heard her student whisper, "I'll be taking this." She held her breath as the bound man, her uncle, shriek in pain. Ragged intakes of breath came from him, and more shrieks and screams following after. Her own right eye burned and stung as if she, too, were getting her eye carved out of it's place.

"Taylande Silverblade! Enough!" she spat, stomping forward and kicking away the dagger. Her eyes stopped flickering between colors, instead remaining the vibrant silver they originally were. Her uncle's eye had also stopped their mad color changing, before being ruined beyond recognition. Tay slowly stood, the look on her face being as if she had just been pulled from a sadistic trance. Nar glared intensely at her cousin, leaning down and undoing the vine bonds that held her uncle in place. 

As soon as the bindings came undone, he darted up, stumbling off into a random direction. Nar furrowed her brow, silver orbs staring at him while he tried to find his way around. She sighed, shaking her head and bending down again to pick up the dagger she didn't know about until now. Her jaw clenched tightly as she swiveled her head to gaze at her pupil, who was normally so gentle most of the time. Her eyes closed for a moment as she ran through a list of punishments to go through. She found nothing that really did stick out, except for one that she knew her cousin would not like.

"You'll not be training with your daggers for the next few years," Nar smugly said. Tay's mouth fell open as she stared at her mentor, a defeated look in her eyes. She knew it was impossible to argue with Nar and win, so she sighed, obeying. "Now," Nar piped up, "Get yourself readied up. You're gonna get educated in some more spells." Tay groaned inwardly.

Nar began to stride forward, only to stop and raise her head to the sky. Though it was blocked by trees, Tay raised her head and could make out faint beams of sunlight. A feeling of dread and fear rose up inside of her, for when the sun rose, she was forced to rest. Nar turned around and grinned childishly. She let all her weight tip behind her, falling onto the rough earth. Tay could only hear a small grunt come from her mentor, and, finally, decided to do the same. Though, she curled into a ball, due to not having a high pain tolerance. She lay awake for a couple of minutes, finally drifting off to sleep by listening to her mentor snoring like a bear.

"You. . . have. . . failed," it whispered. She raised her head, seeing only the Leaking Forest rising up in front of her. Instead of what was usually running ink from a crude painting, blood ran. Reds mingled with purples mingled with greens. Her breathing stopped as panic rose in her chest, as if it were a sticky substance clogging her lungs and throat. She struggled to breathe as the different bloods ran from the so-called 'treetops,' staining the ground and--

The seven-eyed nightsaber stalked forwards, gripping the severed arm of a child in it's maw. She gasped, but it sounded like a shuddering breath one might take before they started to cry. It was the only intake of breath she could get before her throat felt like it was closing up again. The beast crouched down as it neared, finally halting, mere footsteps ahead. It tossed the arm forward, which grew into a tentacle, reaching forwards.

It grasped her by the neck, planting it's end into the ground. She felt her feet leave the floor of blackened and greyed grass, ash beginning to rain down like a cruel, twisted version of snow. The icy cold voice, all too familiar to her, came again only to cackle. It froze the blood in her veins, making her feel like a living corpse. The tentacle tightened it's grip around her, dry and rough to the touch. 

Finally, it released her, and--

Nar stood over her, nudging her with a bare foot. Tay groaned, rolling onto her side and dragging herself to her feet. "Finally you're up, Princess," she sighed. Tay offered her a glare, glancing around as if she were searching for a target. Nar gave her a gentle shove, which sent her stumbling forward a few steps. She clenched her fists, which felt oddly warm to her.

She looked down, seeing sparks of Elune's Fire flickering in and out of sight. Her eyes widened, and she blinked, shaking them away. Tay turned her attention back to Nar, who was in the middle of casting something. Out of habit, she took a few steps back, watching, as Nar raised her right hand above her head. Her other hand was held out in front of her, and she threw what looked to be nothing. Turning her gaze to a small rabbit that crouched nearby, she watched in amazement as a small rod of light fatally struck it.

"Woah. So, I guess this is breakfast?" Tay asked. Nar grinned, nodding.

"Yep. After this, you know where we'll be heading. Well, I hope."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So. . . Guess that's when I fucked up," she rasped. Coughing up blood, she stumbled, leaning onto the trunk of a tree to prevent herself from falling back onto the ground. She raised her head up, seeing a small group of various demons milling about the land in front of her. Her hopes were raised as an impish looking grin spread across her face. Her left hand fell to her side, pulling Silverblade from it's sheath. Her right hand went down and drew Ellemayne from it's, and she stalked forward to meet the small horde.

"TOR'ILISAR'THERA'NAL!" she screeched. It drew the attention of the demons, and she rushed forward, slamming her blades into the ones who ventured closest to her. Tay laughed triumphantly, her injuries forgotten. One fell, then another, and then another. She skipped to the sides, dodging the suckers that thrust forwards from the felbeasts, falling onto the earth and rolling underneath a towering infernal, and danced backwards to avoid the blade of another demon. 

She was testing her luck as the demons fell around her, and the impish grin remained on her face. She thrust her left hand, which held Silverblade, forwards at a satyr, whose blade was coming down. She noticed too late she would not parry the strike, and it sliced through her wrist, and came out the other side. Her hand fell from her arm, and so too did Silverblade. 

Tay shrieked from pain, and the satyr advanced, stepping forwards and onto Silverblade. It shattered.


	16. The Mentor's Tale

Her hand was gone. She'd only managed to worse the wounds upon her body, adding to it yet another injury. She gasped and choked in pain, the blood flowing from the stump which ended her arm. Her body shook and twitch in pain, begging for the wound to be sealed, bound, anything.

She'd managed to stumble and rush away from the group of demons, but could hardly recall anything. She had almost made it out of the forest, but the demons sidetracked her. Mentally, she hit herself for being so stupid. How she desperately needed to get out of the forest.

Everything around her was a blur of colors blended together, while creatures small and large melded with the shadows. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead down into her eye, only adding to the issue she currently faced. Rapidly shaking her head left and right, she cleared a little bit out of her sight.

Squinting to see the area ahead of her, she saw a small light, faintly glowing. Hope fluttered in her chest, her feet dragging themselves forward. It was slow going at first, but she began to pick up speed until she was jogging steadily forward.

Drawing nearer, she slowed down to an uneasy stride, tripping on roots which sent her stumbling forward. She grinned weakly, finally noticing it to be a fire in someone's campsite. Her mouth opened to speak, to let whoever was here know she came for some form of aid. Yet, upon further inspection, not a single soul was there. 

She shook her head, sighing. Glancing down at her now-handless-arm, she placed her remaining hand, her right one, over the stump. "Mother Moon," she croaked quietly, "grant a simple servant your light." She began to silently chant an old hymn her former mentor had once taught her, hoping to at least end the flow of blood. 

She willed herself to tap into what little magic she used, beginning to slowly heal the stump. The blood began to recede, the pace like a snail's, and ended 'til it no longer flowed. She smirked, pressing her bloodstained hand harder against the innerworkings of her wrist. Grunting, she pressed on, finally seeing raw flesh begin to cover up what there was. It spread slowly, then grew only slightly faster, finally covering the rest.

"Well, well. Long time, no see, Short Stuff," came a familiar voice. The voice had begun it's first sentence as she'd gasped, dropping her bloodied hand. She'd recognized the voice of her former mentor almost immediately, and felt a hopeful smile spread across her lips.

"Nar. I'm glad I found you, after all these years," she weakly chuckled. "Tell me, is this the most vulnerable you've seen me at? If it isn't, tell me when that was." Nar gulped, striding beside her former pupil and easing her onto the grassy, plant-covered ground.

"Tay, short stuff. You look like you came back from hell. As for your question, it was about a hundred or so yearsbefore the Battle for Mount Hyjal," Nar replied, pulling out a roll of bandages and a small vial of a liquid salve. She began to uncork the vial, and opened her mouth to speak.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Temple outskirts, a hundred or so years before the Battle for Mount Hyjal.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She sat quietly, perched on her feet at she watched Nar humming quietly to nobody in particular. The evening breeze was cool and welcoming, a stray leaf here or there blowing in the wind. The two females sat alone, together, like every other night before.

She kept listening for the slightest sound, all the while still listening to her cousin's gentle humming. A faint smile brushed her lips, the humming becoming slightly louder in pitch. To them, this was their form of music; something simple and inviting, homely and warm. She always liked it when her cousin would hum, even though this habit started only a few years prior.

"Nar. Do you ever sing?" she asked, staring out at the trees that marked the beginning of the wood. Nar's gentle, sweet humming stopped in the middle of a particularly beautiful tune. She'd heard it was something her mentor learned as a small youth, carrying it with her ever since. 

"Huh? Oh, singing. No. I never learned a song, Tay, only what you're hearing," her mentor replied quietly. Tay furrowed her brow, confused as to why her cousin and mentor was acting so gloomy and sullen. She sighed, listening as the gentle humming picked up once more, at the beginning.

She let that faint smile grace her lips again, moving her arms to rest them on her knees. Tay let her eyes close for a moment of rest, slowly getting lost in the beautiful humming of Nar's. Her mental images of epics and the wars she'd heard of played out in her mind, the melodic rumbling of Nar's voice accompanying it.

Her eyes opened suddenly, the sweet music gone. Nar was giving her an odd, puzzled look, her head tilted to the side. "Short Stuff, are you alright? You just went pale all of a sudden," Nar nearly whispered. Tay hesitated, finally nodding her head to reassure the other female. 

"Nar, why are you acting so distant?" Tay probed, closing her eyes and raising her head to meet the moonlight. Instead of an answer came the gentle humming she heard the entire ni--

A tiny droplet of rain landed on her face, causing her eye to twitch in response. Soon, it began to pour, enough to soak them both. "Time to go back inside, Tay," Nar dismally sighed. Tay found this to be odd; Nar loves the rain. 

She shook the droplets from her face and stood, beginning to follow Nar. The humming hadn't picked up like last time, leaving their small walk quiet, nothing to fill the eerie silence but the rain. Already, she wished Nar would begin her beautiful humming again.

"Is something bothering you? You act like there is," Tay stated, brow furrowed defiantly together. Nar glanced back and saw this, turning her gaze forward again. She mentally assumed her little cousin wouldn't quit badgering her until she said why.

Nar sighed quietly, taking a sharp turn into the temple, causing Tay to adjust her path to avoid hitting a wall. The two females soon turned into a room--their room, which they shared--and Nar motioned for Tay to take a seat.

"Alright, you want to know," Nar started, leaning against a wall. "I'm to be deployed somewhere soon. Don't like it a bit, but orders are orders. Be a good little shortie, like you always are. Well, mostly are. And don't worry, you'll have something to remember me by." She smirked, motioning to the hilt of a weapon sticking out under Tay's bed.

"Take me with you," Tay immediately begged, jumping up from her seated position to her full height. She stood slightly taller than her mentor, who was a decent-sized woman. Nar chuckled softly, shaking her head. 

Tay felt her heart skip a beat, felt her chest tightening and trying to squeeze the breath out of her. A tear carved a path on her face, making it's way slowly down to her jawline. She raised her right arm, furiously wiping at her eyes to try and prevent more tears.

"Get your shortness to bed, Princess," Nar quietly replied, not paying attention to the tears Tay had missed. "It'd be daylight, had the rain not come and blocked the moonlight." Silence filled the space, Tay having nothing to say, only able to wipe away tears.

Nar began to hum again, as Tay lay herself down to rest. It only caused her to cry more, silently, into her own elbow. How adorable she looks, Nar thought to herself. She didn't bother to point out the wetness on her cousin's face, only knowing her humming would get her to sleep easier. And louder, for that matter.

Soon, she heard snoring. It meant one thing to her, that she could rest without fretting over her pupil's fitful rests. Finally, after those quick thoughts, she too, drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tay rubbed at her eyes, groaning softly as she pushed herself off the bed. Rustling noises of fabric on. . . something else met her ears as she placed her feet on the ground.

"You're up earlier than expected. I thought I'd let you sleep in," Nar yawned. A small shadow spread across the floor, only meaning dusk had just fallen. Tay groaned again, but a little bit louder than before. This drew a stifled snort of laughter from her mentor. 

"Anyways. I tried to arrange for you to tag along with me, but it seems you can't. Hopefully you'll see out the rest of your training," Nar continued rambling, but Tay had already zoned out, her dwelling on her mentor's departure apparent on her face.

Nar strode over, ruffling Tay's already unkempt mane of pine green hair. She glanced up, glad to have been pulled out of her thoughts. She met her mentor's eyes briefly, then focusing them on the three-claw scar on Nar's jawline. As she did so, a soft smile touched Nar's lips.

Tay suddenly sprang from the bed, curling her slightly muscled arms tightly around her mentor's body. Nar returned the hug, chuckling, "Please don't make this a dramatic moment. You don't know how badly I despise them." Tay merely nodded, resting her head on Nar's shoulder. 

"Please, don't go," Tay murmured, voice cracking with raw emotion. Nar simply sighed, knowing she couldn't stay for much longer. She gave Tay a couple reassuring pats on the back.

"Goodbye, little Alor'el. My, I've always wanted to call you that!" Nar laughed. Tay was always amazed at how her mentor could lighten the mood on something so gruesome or sorrowful with a stupid remark.

Nar slowly detatched herself from her pupil's tight grip. She finally managed to get her pupil off, striding towards her bed and grabbing up the satchel of what one would assume to be supplies. She turned to glance back at Tay, who had fallen back onto her bed, her face admitting defeat.

It pained her, having to leave the girl behind like that, with a heartbroken look and tears streaming down her face. But, she thought, duty was duty, and it called for this sometimes. Slowly, she strode towards the stables to retrieve her mount, and ride south to meet with the sentinel forces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You never told me that you had to fight in the war. Ermh, what was left of it," Tay sighed. Nar grinned under her plated helm, shrugging. She glanced up to see, only for it to make her grin in return. How she missed her cousin.

"Could you hum for me again? I missed it," Tay requested, the grin disappearing. Nar peered down at her former pupil, admiring how strong she'd gotten. Staring at Tay's face, prematurely lined and eyes prematurely shadowed from the stress and lack of sleep, it seemed, to her eyes, it all disappeared with that one innocent question.

Nar nodded, taking a seat beside Tay. She watchedas her former pupil closed her eyes and smile. Soon, the beautiful sound returned once again.


	17. Twenty-Four, Seven--One

Twenty-four, seven, she did wrong. Twenty-four, seven, she thought. But, only one thing ran on her mind at the current time.

Tay sighed quietly to herself, having fallen asleep soon after Nar began her humming. It was, for her, common to do this. After all, her cousin was one of the few who could get her to sleep quicker than her Min'da.

Landrelia. Min'da. Her mother.

At the thought of her mother her heart sank, filling her chest and lungs with pain. It hurt, thinking about her. It was as if her mother had just disappeared off the face of Azeroth. A tear formed in her eye, quickly escaping to carve a wet path down her face.

Something loud and heavy wad trapsing through the forest, not bothering to cover up it's sounds. Tay quickly raised her left hand, erm, what was left of it, and wiped away the tear. She raised her head from it's bowed position, only to see that it was Nar.

"Heya, Short Stuff! So, I got--" Tay cut her cousin off with a sharp, icy look.

"Nar. I need your help on something. I've to fake my death. I also have reasons, don't start, but I can't disclose them."

Her cousin's eyes were wide, and she dropped the rabbits that dangled limply by their tails. She quickly unclipped a squirrel from her belt, dropping that on top of the rabbits. Tay noted immediately this wasn't a shocked reaction; it was urgency.

Nar reached into her tabard of Hyjal, removing a piece of crumpled up, blank parchment. Tay's brow furrowed as her cousin and former mentor produced a quill from her tabard, and a small bottle of ink from her nearby pack, which lay at Tay's feet.

She placed it on top of the pack, uncapping the ink and dipping the quill in. As soon as it entered, it was pulled and placed on the parchment. She began to scrawl something on it, Tay watching as all the letters came out scrawly and jagged, with the exception of the looped 'g's and 'y's. 

Tay smirked, remembering how she'd spent nights on end mimicking that same writing. Soon, she recalled, their handwriting was nearly identical. All the letters looked no different, aside from Tay's odd squiggle in the 'j's. 

Nar blew on the parchment to dry the ink faster, then hid the quill and ink bottle once more. Tay leaned over and read what was on it; 'Twenty-four, seven, constant signal to begin. Twenty-four seven, our signal to the squad.' 

Tay's brows knit together as she looked up at her cousin. She saw her cousin had removed her helm, revealing a head of shoulder-length, pine-green, tousled hair with the same signature Silverblade ponytail.

"This came off the top of my head. We go to Draenor, and one week after we nearly decimate the Iron Horde we take in a small unit to cleanse the numbers. At this signal," Nar paused, tapping on the parchment, "A squad of some old allies of mine rush in and knock out the entire group. We report you MIA, you get a cover identity, and all goes well."

"Why not bribe a few of the Iron Horde?" Tay asked. "This is a good plan, just, where would we get the materials? Gah, this is Hyjal all over again!" Nar gave her cousin a quizzical look, lofting a brow.

"Well, storytime, Nar. You asked for it."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The Third War, weeks before the Battle of Mount Hyjal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Striding through the woods, the white-robed woman sighed and seated herself on a log nearby. Both hands were then raised to her temples, rubbing stressfully at them. She angrily shook her head left and right, hands then gripping her pine green hair. 

"Dammit. Second in command of a squad--with Niliannis, of all people--and you've only completed training twenty-five years ago," she muttered, slowly shaking her head from side to side. One hand was raised to pinch at the bridge of her nose, trying in vain to relieve the stress that had begun to eat at her.

"Nar, dammit! Where are you? It's been a century and a half, yet I get nothing from you! I can't even tolerate Soras. She's so... strict," she started up again, talking to nobody but herself. 

Another figure, clad in white, stood at the edge of the tiny clearing space where the stressed woman sat. It was safe to call her that, for she'd grown to tower over most women of her race, and bore a slim, lithe body, acting more mature than most others of her age.

"Tay, just calm down. I know it's been centuries since we last spoke, but please calm yourself," began the new white-clad figure. The seated woman's eyes grew wide, and she snapped up to her full height, spinning on her heel to see the newcomer. Her hand was at her belt, closing on a blade that was a more beautiful blue than the frozen lakes of Winterspring.

The two individuals, both female, stared at each other for a long time. One was short, and the other tall. One's eyes were an amber that held a burning fire in them, the other's a gentle and calming silver. One's hair was pine green, already sporting a few premature silver streaks, while the other had snow white hair, bright and beautiful. 

They seemed to contrast one another in everything, but only when they spoke did one hear just how opposite they were. Amber, fiery and defiant, clashed with silver, gentle and calm, for what seemed like an eternity. Then, the amber-eyed woman dropped her hand to her side, the top of her hand already bearing scars whose stories were not told. 

"Kalandra. It's been a while. You've changed," the woman called Tay greeted. Her voice sounded like it was coated in honey, only slightly on the deeper side. Though, there was a subtle edge in it, defensive, cold, and well hidden. The other woman, Kalandra, remained silent for a moment.

"Taylande. The High Priestess does this for a reason. The Legion has returned, along with reports of other races and walking corpses. Ready yourself. Many will fight, and I fight with you, with our people. I learned Niliannis trusted you enough to make you second in command." Kalandra's voice was cool, like a breeze blowing through the summer's air.

"Twenty-four is our unit's name, Kalandra. Anyways, I've word the druids are to be awoken, that a demigod is dead," Tay answered. Their eyes locked again, and Tay gave the other woman a quick glare before striding off. Kalandra sighed, moving after her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Weeks later, Battle of Mount Hyjal  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Corpses still bled, bodids were impaled on weapons, and steel met with steel. Blood coated her in nearly every section of her body. Her daggers were drawn, and her arms and weapons were ablaze with the holy fire of Elune.

It's all an illusion, she thought, and they don't know you hide your true strength. She raised a dagger and pointed it at a doomguard. The dagger, Silverblade, lit up as it willingly conducted the stream of Elune's Fire. It roared in pain, crashing down to the earth.

Humans scampered everywhere, seeking cover from the onslaught of the Burning Legion. She jumped over the body of a dead soldier, rushing towards the ruins of a house to take cover and heal the bloody gashes scattered across her body.

"Niliannis! Watch out!" a unit member called from somewhere. Her head darted over to peer across the side, viewing the battlefield. A kaldorei woman clad in chain mail rushed foreward, towards a doomguard, her broadsword raised to strike. 

A felhound came behind her, energy leeching suckers protruding from it's scaly looking back. The suckers latched onto her, issuing a screech of pain from her mouth. Tay jumped up from what was left of the house, daggers raised in the air. She rushed towards it, dodging the axe of a doomguard in the process. Soon as she neared the felhound, both daggers were buried into it's spine. 

Niliannis glanced at Tay, who nodded to her. "I owe you one, Silverblade. Now come on. We've to advance throughout this human encampment and meet more of these blasted abominations," Niliannis commanded, jerking her head left. Tay responded with a nod, waving a hand at the rest of the unit. All were just ending what demons they could, ignoring the advancing ones. 

Together they rushed throughout the area, dodging and blocking attacks from all sides. As Tay's eyes darted around, she saw the odds seemed to be tipping to the Legion's favor. They grew wide, and she sprinted further out from her unit, calls being issued for her to come back. A grin, impish and daring. spread across her face as she glanced back.

She sprinted towards hordes of demons, directing their attention to her with slices across their revealed flesh. She managed to succeed, a determined and hearty chuckle escaping her mouth. Her unit rushed forward, unamused by the idea of her possibly life threatening tactic. She saw the glares spread across her comrades faces, half of the time pointed at her. 

A white-haired kaldorei woman came up from behind her, slashing something away. Doomguard surrounded them, swinging and raising their axes to execute the small little unit. "Silverblade, damn you, watch out from behind! It--" She heard Niliannis get cut off, a bloodchilling scream being pulled from the woman's mouth. Her dagger buried into the doomguard's chest, and she ripped it from him, the blade coated in demon's blood. 

Glancing back, she saw a felhound finishing off her comrade. It shook it's thick, coarse, black mane, mouths on it's tentacled suckers opening and closing hungrily. It bared it's teeth, lunging at her. She was toppled by the thing's weight, falling flat on the ground. Her daggers were raised, trying desperately to block off the suckers from her body. She missed one of the suckers sneaking past her defenses, and it latched onto her. A pain worse than she'd ever endured spread throughout her body, and she roared in pain.

Struggling to cling to life, she brought her other dagger, Ellemayne, up above it's head, burying the blade into it. Blood began to ooze from the wound and the pain lessened, 'til it was a simple throbbing headache. She shoved the demon off her body, standing and looking around. Only, the sight that met her eyes was half of her unit dead. Only three remained. 

"Kalandra, Soraciel! Come on! Where's--" She was cut off as the axe of another doomguard swung down and struck the bloodstained earth beside her. She whipped around, pointing Ellemayne at it. A spell, one she used most often, formed on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes narrowed as she whispered the spell, then watching it flare out, conducted through the dagger, and strike it in the chest. She grinned at him, a cold and icy one, instead of the impish and daring one.

She turned, sprinting towards who she could see of her nearly-decimated unit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hrm, I sort of understand where you're going, Short Stuff," Nar commented, brow furrowing. Tay's hand twitched as she shot her cousin a glare. Nar lofted a brow, seating herself beside her younger cousin.

"I'm simply pointing out the flaws in my previous strategies, y--" Tay cut herself off, lunging and elbowing her cousin in the face. Nar was knocked off guard, stunned and obtained a bloody nose. She was surprised her little cousin had enough physical strength in her to do that.

Nar gasped, floundering around in an attempt to latch her hand onto her sword. A cold look spread across her cousin's face, and she could only watch as her cousin strode forward, her amber eyes icy and chilling, and slammed her fist into her face. More blood came from the punch, one of her lips busted and a possibility of a tooth being knocked out. 

"I'm sorry, my closest friend. I truly am. But, I just can't risk you knowing of this," Tay answered. Her tone was anything but apologetic. She raised her hand--her only one, at this point--and held it over her head. She remembered the spells they used on her in Pandaria, how it wiped a few minutes of her memory for a certain amount of time. Thankfully, hers had worn off, and she remembered just how many of the Horde's grunts she had killed. No, not killed, she though, slaughtered.

She watched as her spell took effect, and her cousin fell asleep on the ground. She bowed her head, kneeling down beside Nar. She placed her hand onto her cousin's forehead, recalling the hymn she'd used to heal her stump-arm. She began to whisper it, so soft it was barely heard, and strained herself in an attempt to at least seal off the sections where the blood flowed. It was different, she thought, than wiping someone's memory. She had caught onto that spell easier than expected. If only, she thought again, I had practiced my skills during that time.

Standing, she sighed, grabbing Nar's pack of supplies and rummaging through it. Her hands brushed paper, and she grasped it, pulling it out from the bag. She dropped that, unfurling the paper to see it was a map. Thankfully, Nar had her campsite circled on it. Tay smirked, bent down again, and grasped the small piece of paper Nar had written on. She glanced back at the map, then to the forest, and took off to the north.


	18. Twenty-Four, Seven--Two

Twenty-four, seven, she would run. Twenty-four, seven, she tried to win. Twenty-four, seven, she manipulated them. Twenty-four, seven, she desperately sought to escape the fear that ate away at her. 

"Tay, you have no time for celebrating your way out of this place. Darkshore's just up ahead," she mumbled, folding the map and shoving it into her bag. Her one hand had a spell readied, as if she were waiting for trouble to leap out at her. Her amber eyes flitted about the area, watching as the land ahead gave way to trees of pine and the grass became sparser. A smirk crossed her face, which she quickly dismissed.

"Dunno why, but it reminds me of the time I died."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Battle of Mount Hyjal  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blood rushed through her veins, heart hammering against her ribcage. Something roared, stomping quickly up behind her. Out of instinct, she flipped Ellemayne to where the pommel of the hilt would stick out where the blade usually was. Her left hand flew backwards, sticking the blade into something that was tight with muscle. She glanced back, seeing a felguard on the dagger. She turned, shoving her foot against it to retrieve the blade. It was coated in blood, pulling out with a sickening wet sound. "Disgusting."

Quickly, she spun on her heel, seeing the remnants of her unit spread out and under attack. A glare spread across her face as she issued a roar of anger. It didn't distract the little horde of demons, not one bit. She rushed towards them, falling to the ground and rolling into the combat as the axe of a demon slammed into the ground beside her.

A bark of laughter escaped her mouth as she jabbed both blades into the demon's torso. She smirked, using the time the demon took to pull it's axe from the ground to get her comrade out of harm's way. The demon had managed to jerk it's axe free sooner than she'd expected, and it threw the axe over it's head, ready to bring it down. She glanced back to make sure her comrade had gone off to help the rest of her unit, who had done as expected.

Turning back, she was met with the sight of the axe flying down towards her. Her eyes grew wide, right hand coming up to attempt to block the incoming attack. A spell formed on the tip of her tongue, flaring out onto her left hand. She thrust that hand forward, which met the demon's flesh as her dagger was knocked out of hand. Her eyes narrowed as she waited patiently for the axe to split her open.

Instead, the demon fell backwards, axe clattering on the ground beside it. "Well, that was easier than expected. Good job, Tay," someone called behind her. Tay whipped her head around. A smirk began to tug at her lips as her second mentor strode up behind her, cowl hiding her face as usual. Tay bit her bottom lip, trying to maintain the stern look she'd worn most of the battle.

"Soraciel. Erm, Soras," Tay quickly corrected, giving the woman a hasty bow. Soras sighed, shaking her head. The two exchanged looks, while Tay turned her gaze away to try and find some demons. "Your sister is dead, Soras." The other woman sighed, shaking her head. Tay stole a glance at her second mentor, and thought she caught sight of a tear trailing it's way down the woman's face.

Soras grunted, jerking her head to the left. Tay's gaze scanned over to that area, where she saw another demon-infested area. "Damn. We need to get through there. Might be civilians, but I can't risk the rest of the unit," she grumbled. She slowly turned her head around, looking for some other way to pass. A sigh escaped her lips as she lowered her head and shook it. "There's no other way. We're going to have to kill them to get through."

"I'm not sure we'll make it, young apprentice."

"Would you quit that? I'm tired of you trying to sound mighty and wise. You're not even two thousand years old than I."

Soras sighed, chuckling softly. "If you say so, Tay." 

"Anyways--Wait. Where's Kalandra? Are we all that's left?" Tay began to sound urgent, whipping her head around and spinning on her heel in an attempt to find her other comrade. Soras began to steal a few glances around, finally tapping Tay on the shoulder and pointing towards the horde of demons they had spotted earlier. "Shit. I thought she had more sense than that! Come on!" 

Tay didn't wait for Soras to start running, as she'd already taken off. She reached down, pulling out Ellemayne from it's sheath. Her other hand patted the scabbard that held Silverblade, which she'd not drawn yet. Thankfully, she had more than just these two ancient blades on her person. She took in a deep breath, muttering a few words to herself. "Endu xaxas, anu Elune." She chuckled at the couple of words she'd just muttered, skidding to a halt about three yards from the nearest demon.

Soon, Soras came up behind her, huffing and gasping for breath. Standing close to the demon, they saw the axes of the doomguard swinging madly, three pairs of suckers on the felhounds going wild. Tay let a look spread across her face and groaned loudly. "Well, here we go, Soras. We get to play sentinel in shining armor." Soras chuckled, drawing her staff and readying a spell onto the tips of her fingers. Glancing back at her second mentor, she waited for the nod she usually used to signal she was ready. Soon, it came, and Tay issued a roar and ran in.

"TOR'ILISAR'THERA'NAL!" She outstretched her left arm, bare with nothing but a small leather bracer to shield off any attacks. She stretched her hand out, half-closed into a fist. She whispered to herself the simple incantation she always used to summon Elune's Fire onto her person. It spread onto her arm, nearly burning white. Startled by the sudden heat it began to give off, she roared again, slamming it into the face of a felhound that was rushing her.

It issued a bark of pleasure as she unknowingly fed it the magicks that flared on her arm. She gasped, kicking it away from her and muttered the incantation again. Glancing back at the felhound, it let out a howl as it split into another of the demonic hounds. Tay's jaw fell open in surprise as she stumbled backwards. Shaking the surprise from her person, she took on the stern look once more and rushed at both.

Her left hand slammed into the jaw of one, digging into it with a strength that would startle a sentinel. And everyone calls me a dainty priestess, she thought as Ellemayne was plunged into the brain of the second felhound. The hound with Ellemayne in it howled pitifully, going limp soon after. She loosed a bellowing laugh of triumph as she increased the power on the other felhound, which soon attached it's suckers to her arm, and began to roar with agony. "You want food? Here, EAT!" The felhound snarled in pain as the magic it fed off of began to overload, causing it to bloat.

As she kept feeding it, another hound rushed at her. She pointed Ellemayne at it, screeching, "SEN, ANDE RODNE XAXAS!" Mentally, she overloaded the spell she fired at the hound. It screeched in pain, beginning to bloat and quickly exploded. Cackling madly, she squeezed onto the other felhound's skull, allowing the magicks on her arm to pulse. Soon, it, too exploded. "COME ON! FUCKING FIGHT ME!"

Soras gasped quietly as she watched her apprentice go wild and rush at the demons. "Taylande! You're going to get yourself killed!" she called, though her warning was lost in the roars and screams of Tay and the demons. She sighed, mumbling, "She's done for. But, that doesn't mean I won't quit helping." She raised her hands, bringing them together and outstretching them. Her fingers uncurled as she began to chant a hymn to the Goddess. Like a snake, a stream of light flew towards Tay, beginning to mold together and create a shield around her.

She grinned at her handiwork as the doomguards' weapons bounced off the air a few inches from her apprentice. A chuckle escaped her lips, which soon faded as she saw it begin to crack and fade in places. She began shaking her head, watching fearfully as her apprentice dodged and rolled left and right to avoid the onslaught of the demon's weapons. Soras quickly raised her hands, repeating the same process, but hastier, and more carelessly. A flash of light left her hands, darting forward and hitting one of the doomguard square in the chest. She heard it's roar as she backed up a few paces to stay in a safer casting zone.

"WHO'S NEXT? COME ON, FIGHT!" Tay taunted, causing their axes to slam down near her. She leaped out of the way, missing certain death by only a few centimeters. One of the doomguard was bowed down, struggling to pull it's axe from the ground. She quickly climbed up his backside, curling her arms around his neck. Soon after, it pulled the axe and began to swing it wildly from one place to another, trying in vain to get the devious little elf off of it's neck. 

Tay jerked the thing's head sideways, causing it to ram into another of the doomguard. She pulled Ellemayne up above their heads, lowering it to the doomguard's neck and plunging it in. Then demon let loose a gurgling noise. Tay pulled her legs from around it's neck and stood on it's back as it began to crash down. She forced herself off against it, jumping only to land painfully onto the ground nearby. Something shook the ground near her as she pushed herself up. 

In the distance, she saw an infernal crash down near what she assumed to be the orc camp. I can't handle it, though, and I wouldn't get there in time, she thought. Standing, she grinned and returned to the demons. "Well, who's next?" she asked. The doomguard surrounding her, numbering in at seven, brandished their weapons and marched forward to meet her. She readied Ellemayne, Silverblade unsheathed and in her left hand. 

Quickly, she dashed forward under the legs of one, thrusting Silverblade up into it's crotch. The doomguard roared, falling to it's knees in pain. She chuckled quietly to herself, raising both dagger to parry an attack sent by another demon's axe. She stumbled, growling angrily at it and rushing it. As she outstretched both daggers, the points touched together and Elune's Fire sparked at it's tip. It shot out at the doomguard, burning away at it's flesh. It screeched in pain, distracted and slowly dying as the fire ate away at it.

"Two down, and I think I'll need help!" she called out, loud enough for Soras to hear. She jumped up, burying both blades into the neck of another. It spluttered and gurgled as blood poured out of it's throat. As Tay hung on it by her daggers, she kicked off it, daggers pulling free with a sickening, yet moist sound. She managed to flip herself midair, biting her lip to try and make the dizzy feeling creeping up on her disappear. Her heels struck ground, but instead of jumped right up, she stumbled and fell onto her rear end.

She grunted in pain, pushing herself up and pointing Silverblade at an advancing doomguard. Elune's Fire conducted swiftly out of it, but instead of it being bright and blinding, it was. . . darker, and unnerved her. "How in the name of Elune can I still pull off all these flips that my damned father taught me? I hope he burns, LIKE YOU DO!" she roared, throwing Ellemayne into a doomguard's face. It fell down, groaning in the process. She rushed forward, retrieving the blade. "Huh, you come out of the fallen easily."

She turned around, catching a blow to the gut. Not even her leather cuirass could absorb a blow from the butt of a nightsaber-sized axe. She gasped for breath, and heard footsteps behind her. She was too stunned to turn and face whoever this was, only to feel a blade, the blade of a sword, run through her gut. She chuckled, blinking a couple of times, and pulled herself forward, off the blade, tears welling in her eyes from the pain. 

Rushing forward, she gasped for breath, and stabbed Ellemayne into the torso of a demon. She willed herself to summon Elune's Fire, and it did, burning throughout the demon. Her eyes became wide, and she felt like the pain had been dulled to a gentle, irritating throb. She pulled Ellemayne away, grinning. "Always need to take one more down. . . right before you meet your match," she muttered to herself, collapsing onto the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tay shook the memories away, striding towards the ruins of Auberdine. She mumbled to herself, "Don't let it get to you, not again. Just keep moving forward, like you do twenty-four, seven."


	19. Whispers

_Steal their lives, steal them all!_

_Do not hesitate, for in the end, they will all betray you._

_Do it! Do it! Do it! Only then will you understand._

_The clock ticks, silly kaldorei. Run, little woman, run after the shadows._

She coughed, raising her hand to cover her mouth. Liquid struck her palm, warm and fresh. She pulled her hand away, only to reveal blood, plum colored, on her skin. Sighing, she raised a hand and rubbed at her nose. It felt. . . crooked, like someone had decided punching her was a great idea. Her head shook wildly from side to side, hair coming loose from the small ponytail on the back of her head. 

"I should get that cut off. Probably what caused this issue in the first place. Eh, you should try to find Tay sometime soon. Elune only knows what she's been doing these past couple hundred years," she chuckled to herself. A smile crossed her face as she glanced around the forest, spotting her helm only a few feet away from where she lay. She rolled her eyes, rolling once and stretching out as her fingertips brushed the top. "Well, more rolling!" She rolled once again, grasping onto the top.

She leaned back on her elbows, glancing about with narrowed eyes as she then placed it over her wild head of hair. "Nar, you've really gotten yourself into something. Ashenvale, and I have a feeling you've gone and wrestled with a bear," she chuckled to herself, turning her head to stare at the tent she had oh, so crudely pitched. Staring at it, she grinned widely, fangs poking out, and began to laugh. "Wow, that was a terrible job! Now, where did you put Bladestream's whistle?" 

Nar pushed herself onto her feet, striding quickly around her little camper's area. She shook her head as her silver orbs darted rapidly to and fro in search of a small object. Seeing nothing as she paced about, she strode to her tent, ducking her head inside, yet still saw nothing. "Well, we're gonna have to use our fingers, I guess." Nar pulled herself from the tent, straightening her back and placing a few fingertips in her mouth.

_Thankfully I practiced this during the Ancients' War_ , she thought. _Back when I still had An'da's old girl to help me._ A small frown crossed her face, quickly dismissed by her returning notion of whistling for Bladestream. Taking in a breath, she blew, yet nothing happened. She tried again, but still nothing. Sighing, she removed her fingers and whistled a quick, three note tune easily recognized by her companions. 

A shriek came from above the treetops, loud and bird-like. She glanced up, a smirk crossing her face. She chuckled quietly, watching as the large figure, winged with claws and hooves, feathers colored a dark turquoise, with a beaked head and face descend from the treetops. Nar held back laughter as it squawked and chirped in frustration in it's attempt to find the ground under the large clustering of leaves that was easily found everywhere when looking at the sky of Ashenvale. 

Finally, it managed to land, claws and hooves hitting the ground a few feet away from it's intended landing spot. Nar finally released her laughter, hearty and loud. She coughed, which ended her laughter. "You, my friend, have some work to do," she told the beast. It merely squawked again in response to her statement. It's folded wings stretched out, the back feet--hooved--also stretching back. Soon after, it's wings folded and it stood normally, waiting for the elf.

"Oh, you are one rude hippogryph, Bladestream!" Nar chuckled, striding forward and mounting the beast. It loosed a small, nearly incoherent chirping noise. She leaned over, and patted it's side, the hippogryph beginning to beat it's wings and rise higher into the sky. "Alright, don't kill me this time. We don't need a repeat of a few weeks ago, aye? Aye, then. Glad we agree." Bladestream merely chirped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You stupid elf, Tay. Mum is pr--Dammit, concentrate. She's dead, she's gone, and soon you will be too!" she scolded herself. Her remaining hand gripped the satchel that hung at her side as she trudged through the forest, trying in vein to find the path. A glare stretched across her now-dirt-covered face, a canine biting deep into her lip.

She growled in frustration as she saw only more trees ahead, and the path that usually carved Darkshore's surface was nowhere to be found. "I swear to the Goddess if you've lost yourself. . ." she muttered, gripping the satchel tighter. Quickly, she stole a glance and the rather terrible bandage job she'd done in the previous hours. Sighing, she shrugged and began to pick up her pace, now jogging through the woods and past the animals that made this land their home.

Blinking, she halted, nearly running into a nearby tree. Out of habit, she raised her hand and stump, in an apologetic fashion. A glare then stretched across her face as she growled at her habit. She stormed past the tree, hand balled into a fist. She took in deep breaths, frustrated at herself still. Shaking her head as she passed, she silently refused to herself to calm down, to forget about a simple habit she had fallen into.

_They come._

_Flee into the shadows. Return. . ._

_Your family betrays you. Even now, they plot against you._

Tay's eyes narrowed as she looked around, thinking some poor fool to be playing a trick on her. "I swear to the Goddess, I'm going to end the idiot that's doing this!" she growled. She glanced around once more, looking back to the area of more trees in front of her. Shaking her head once more, she started to trot forward, eyes glancing to and fro, only finding more of the wildlife and fauna that littered kaldorei lands. 

"You're an idiot, my friend. You are kaldorei, whose sight, hearing, and smell are better than those of any other race, aside from the wolf-men. Sniff the air, find the sea, you'd be better off that way!" a suspicious sounding man's voice whispered. She frantically whipped her head side to side, searching for the voice that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Blinking rapidly, she turned away and shook her head.

"It was nothing, Tay. Just... yes, find the sea. Whatever said that is right," she muttered to herself. Raising her head, she took in a quick whiff of air. She looked back down, letting the scent in the air register with that of her memory. Nothing stuck out. She furrowed her brow, sniffing again. Still, nothing. "Let's move a few steps to your... left, Tay." She stepped to her left some, sniffing again. Still nothing registered. "I guess we'll go west, then. Northwest through Ashenvale always meant you'd find your way into Darkshore. West was always the sea. I think."

She rotated her body left, and sped off that way. The trees still didn't narrow out, only got thicker, and thicker, and thicker. Her brow was knit together, eyes glancing suspiciously around. "What a foolish, stupid elf you are!" called the same mysterious voice. "You're certain to find your death! Hehehe!" Her head whipped to her right, her left, and forwards once more. She grinded her teeth together, eventually biting down hard onto her lip. Internally, she told herself to ignore it, to ignore the voice and it's bad tips.

Trees. Trees. Trees. It seemed as if there were no end to it, the forest of Darkshore only getting wider and wider. Whispers filled her ears, urging her forward, demanding her to turn around, saying left was the right path, listen to the voice that kept calling to her. She began to breathe heavier, her lungs feeling like they were collapsing in on themselves. Her body felt sore, and everything began aching. Another whisper filled her ear, one more prominent than the others. "Wake up!" it called, repeating itself. "Wake up! Wake up!"

She was awake, though. She was awake, eyes wide as she ran. But, why? Why was she running? Why was she hearing the voices of others, of friends, of passersby on the streets of Stormwind, of kings and of children? "Run, run, run! Time's a' ticking, and it's a' following!" There went that suspicious voice again, urging her forward, urging her to run from something she didn't even know. Yet still, her legs carried her forward, away from this unknown thing the voice mentioned. Her legs felt sore, like they would fall off, let her fall, plummet straight into--

A ravine. She stood, shaking, staring straight at one of the large tears in the land. She turned to look behind her, seeing nothing but trees and a small sliver of black that rushed out from the trunks and the grasses and bushes. The rushing of the water in the ravine filled her ears, replacing the whispers that so quickly had turned into yells, screams, and pleas. She raised her hand to her face, seeing it tremble and a small dot of blood fall from her hand.

"O sen. Why am I bleeding?" she muttered, feeling her legs and feet go weak. She tried stepping forward, but her legs decided to move backwards, to the ravine. They moved clumsily as if she had no control over them. Soon, her body felt light, lighter than it ever had. She'd'nt felt this since she was but a child, after she escaped from the clutches of her father. 

Her father. The mere thought of him made her face contort into a glare. It was intense, she could feel, more intense than any of her other simple glares. The light-weighted-ness suddenly disappeared from her body, and she soon realized she'd backed up, falling into the ravine. She knew water rushed through it, like a berserk warrior on the battlefield. 

Twisting and turning, she soon felt the water course around her person. The glare was gone, replaced by a look of confusion as she frantically searched for the air. She could swim, she had to know it for her campaigns, but not if water too fast even for her was throwing her about as if she were a ragdoll. She felt the rest of the air she had get used up, and dizziness swept over her. Her heart slammed against her ribs, faster and faster, silently begging for air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Darkness. It encompassed her vision, leaving many things a mystery. She felt drowsy, like she’d been asleep for longer than she’d intended. A groan escaped her lips, ears picking up nothing, nothing but silence, silence, and still more silence. Her eyes refused to open, and she was fine with that. She was already tired enough as it was. 

Finally, she peeled open her eyes, only to see a roof above her head. Whispers entered her mind, filled her ears, and she slowly turned her head to the side, to see what it was. Nothing. Her brows furrowed, blinking slowly, as she looked around to see just exactly where she was. Once more, the whispers returned, fuzzy and incoherent, but it was there.

_Run, run, run! They are after you, always and forever._

_Your people never cared. . ._

_Leave them, join us! We will treat you as family!_

She jerked her entire torso forward, sitting up. The whispers that bugged her were familiar, like they’d been there her entire life. And they had been. She gritted her teeth, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and planting her feet on the ground. She sighed quietly to herself, looking around at the rather spacious room. “You’re not staying. Get what is yours, and leave,” she muttered to herself.

_Hurry! Time is wasting._

Her head whipped left and right, eyes scanning the room and its contents as she searched for her blades. She glanced down at her hands, both of them there. “Funny. . . I dreamt I lost one,” she muttered, looking back up and scanning about the room again. “’Tis nothing…” She swept her eyes around once more, finding nothing.

She moved out of the room, seeing woodlands out of a window as she entered into another. Craning her neck, she took a few glances here and there, concluding this was a two-room living quarters. Shrugging, she scanned through here, eyes landing on her daggers as they rested on a table near a couch and two chairs. Her brow furrowed at this odd sight.

“Tay, grab them and leave,” she chided herself. “This place is empty, who knows when the owner returns. Besides, you should be dead, I thought!” Her hands darted out, grasping onto the familiar feel of the worn leather on the hilts of the blades. A small smile graced her lips at this feeling, and she silently chided herself once more, striding to the door and tucking Silverblade into her—

Quickly, she stole a glance at her waist to confirm she had a belt. She didn’t. A growl escaped her lips as she decided she’d simply carry the blades. Placing one under her arm, she reached out and opened the door, a small click being heard in the process. Her hand then retreated back to Silverblade’s hilt, the feeling of the ancient and worn leather becoming a comforting presence to her. Somehow, it felt like it would speak to her, fill her with a strength she could use to quickly and easily down her foes.

A small clearing of trees surrounded the small house as she looked about, striding forward a few steps. There was nobody, nothing, not a creature or person in sight. “You are not in Kaldorei lands, that is safe to conclude,” she chuckled aloud to herself. “I would sprint quickly, to h—You don’t have one, idiot. Just keep moving ‘til you find civilization.”

She trudged on, sprinting, walking and jogging, finding nothing but trees and plains, until finally she found. . . more trees. Why it was nothing but trees, and ones unfamiliar to her at that, she couldn’t answer. She was too far from her peoples’ home to try and find it again, but decided to keep moving would be best.

“’Tis obvious that if you can’t find kaldorei peoples, you are exiled. I remember during the Battle, that there were these race of peoples called ‘humans.’ You could try to find them. I think they might be in this. . . Is that a swamp?” Her voice fell in disappointment as she felt that her hopes were dashed. “Oh, by the Goddess. . .”

Sighing, Tay moved forward through the swamplands, turning her body to the east, in hopes of finding at least _some_ life that wasn’t crocolisks, oversized insects, and other beasts of that kind. Ellemayne was extended in front of her as she trudged through, flaming with the Fire of the Goddess on its blade, casting a shadow some few yards in front of her. It fell on the backs of the reptilian and scaly-looking beasts, giving her enough time to dance a few feet to her left or to her right. 

“Today was not a good day to wake up. Was I even dead, or was I just in a coma of sorts?” she asked herself as she moved through the swamps. Nothing stood out as she avoided to crocks, only making her trek quick and easy as possible. “Well, this could be your chance at cleaning the slate. Nothing like being Silverblade’s Bastard to help that.” Her tone was full of sarcasm on the last sentence, pants dragging her down as they filled with the muddy water on the ground.

As she trudged through, she saw a tower of some sort rise above the treetops in the distance, to which her heart filled with hope. Her eyes widened, a grin tugging viciously at her lips. Instead of the grin falling onto her face, it was a smirk on her lips. She began to run forward, weighed down with the muddy water she hadn’t bothered to let out. “By Elune, that must be what a settlement of those humans is like. Eavesdropping on the superiors does pay off,” she chuckled, still moving forward.

 

She kept moving, trying in vain to move faster and reach the tower sooner than she hoped. She knew, in the back of her mind, that she would not reach it in time. It would take her another few hours to actually reach the settlement, and day was rising. A glare crossed her face as her head whipped around, left and right, in search of a cave of some sort. 

A loud growl escaped her lips as she found nothing but the large, drooping branches of the trees in the swampland. Sighing, she scanning around once more, finding a single sturdy-looking tree, and sprinted forward towards it. She reached it within ten minutes, the water still weighing her down, more so now as her pants had filled to her knees with it. She lifted the pantlegs, water sloshing out of it quicker than she had expected. A smirk spread across her face as she quickly scaled it, these trees being much smaller than the ones in her homelands. 

“Rest in the tree, and journey on tomorrow. Smart, Tay, smart,” she mumbled, tucking her blades into her pants. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She awoke on the banks of the swirling vortex of the river caused by the Cataclsym, weary feeling and already shocked at the fact she could breathe, and was not dead. A smile crossed her face, wild-looking and not fitting her face well. “Ha-haaaaa! I’m not dead! I’ll dwell on whatever the fel saved me later. For now, I need to get to land. 

“I must have dreamt about my time after resurrection. I still don’t know who exactly it was that brought me back. Oh, well. Land is your goal now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You need to find her now. That kaldorei woman in the river nearly died. Dammit, Tay! Why do you always get yourself into trouble? Lan must always be worried about her, huh, Bladestream?" Nar asked, lofting a brow. Her silver orbs scanned the area below her as Bladestream let out a small, high-pitched chirping noise. "Ugh, you are terrible at conversation, you asshole." Bladestream only answered with a clicking noise, the flapping of it's wings stopping for a moment as it began to soar. 

"Girl, you need rest. Land up here at Lor'danel. We'll search for Tay tomorrow."


	20. Now

She gasped as she realized just where she was in Darkshore. It was not that kind of gasp of shock, surprise, or happiness. It was one full of fear, of panic, and of bad memories she tried to suppress. Her rejoicing over the fact that she was not dead was now gone, and she saw water, deeper than she was tall, surrounded her on all sides. For her, this was one of the worst possible things to wake up to. She felt her pulse begin to race, the panic finally kicking in as she did not know what, exactly, she had to do. Yes, she knew how to swim, but she just. . . couldn't force herself to.

"No, no, no, no. Not the water, anything _but_ the water, Goddess no." Her breathing became faster and faster, as she was unable to calm herself down. She reached up to the right side of her head, resting her hand over her right temple. Tt ran up through her hair, gripping a clump of it firmly. Tightly, her eyes were squeezed shut. The sound of rushing water, surging up against the island over, and over, and over again caused her to let out a small whimper of fear. Never had she been so afraid of something that was meant to provide life, nourishment. "Goddammit, Tay, goddammit," she'd squeak.

A choking sound came out of her throat as she tried to hold back her sobs of fear. She couldn't do it, not at all, bandaged stump pressing up against the grass. Skin still raw, it hurt as she rubbed on the earth. A hiss escaped her lips. She knew she had hurt her wound further, hurt it enough to distract her from her location on an island in the middle of Darkshore's chaotic river that winded this way and that.

_Sssswim. . ._

_Sssssstay here and drown._

_Family hassss betrayed you. . ._

_They will never acccccept you._

Her breathing slowed, finally halting. The voices were back again, back and here to torment her as they always were. They would never go away, she knew, always would be there to befuddle her thoughts and twist them into their own. Faces of those she could call allies entered her mind as she listened to the whispers, trying so hard to drown them out. She could not. Now, a single thought replaced those of her allies, though she did not like this, yet knew it was possibly the only way to dismiss them. _Dive._

Dive. Into the water. Into what could kill her, end her if she stayed submerged for too long. If it would get rid of these nagging voices, of the whispers that made her doubt every decision. She slowly untangled her hand from her hair, now past her shoulders as it once had been a long time ago. In the years past that were far, far away, she remembered just how far it stretched, compared to now. Now. Her entire body shook, and she inched ever closer as the voices whispered and nagged and tried to make her doubt this decision. She would not let them. Not now. Now.

And she was in the water. Biting cold surrounded her, driving all the air from her lungs. She gasped, hoping to take in some air. Water filled her mouth, horrible taste of it being unboiled and cleansed causing her to instantly exhale. Desperately, she flailed her arms trying to escape from being under. She felt herself moving, moving and twisting through the rushing water as it carried her to its center, to the whirlpool not too far from the town of Lor'danel.

Her hand she outstretched, above her head, as she searched for the surface. Blackness entered the edges of her vision as she hoped for air soon. Still, her outstretched hand felt nothing, nothing, nothing. And then, air. Air. She began kicking her legs, hoping to propel herself towards the surface of the water, where there was light, where there was air, where there was less moisture. Soon enough, as she had hoped, she broke the surface. Air.

A gasp. Breath. Breathing. She could breathe, could think clearly, swim towards the nearest outcropping of land or bank of the chaotic river that was the Wildbend. After the Cataclysm, it ran straight through Lor'danel, shattering most of the forest. A bank, she saw, was not too far away. Mere yards from where she was, and she would soon be out of the river, out of what she feared, out of the water and the cold that still gripped her.

"Tay, swim. Swim. You'll be fine there. You can run to Lor'danel once you hit land. It shouldn't be too far off," she told herself. Her body she now propelled forward, and to the bank. Though the current still pressed against her, she knew to keep going, to make it there. Soon enough, as she used her arms and hand and legs, she reached the sandy bank. Her hand outstretched to drag her way out of the water, a hand met her own. A hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drowsiness gripped her as she opened her eyes, raising up a hand to rub at them. A hand. One that belonged to her, one that was a weapon, something she could use to defend herself. She remembered the bright flame she had once summoned, during the war, the bright flame of Elune she used to smite those who sought to defile her peoples, her culture, and everything she held dear. Though, there was few of that. Yet still, she recalled how they tried--and failed--to destroy her home.

Home. Such a strange concept to her. Strange, and foreign, like the tales of the cities of Suramar and Ara'Hinam and Zin'Azshari her cousin once told her lull her to sleep. And at the thought of sleep, she realized she was still in the tree, her daggers no longer tucked into her pants. They were on the ground below her, and she knew better than to leave them lying down there for someone other than her to steal away. It was better to get them now than to wait for someone to waltz on by before she got out of the tree.

She estimated the drop to be at least her height, and thought it wouldn't cause any damage to her. Unless, of course, she landed on the side of a foot instead of the bottom of her foot. Having a broken ankle would not do well for her if she had to move on foot to find Ashenvale. Hopefully, though, she'd be able to find a saber or hippogryph to make her journey easier. But, of course, she'd have to travel by night to avoid any diurnal creatures that had intelligent though. Though, she highly doubted that. 

Now, her legs dangled over the edge as she had been lost in thought and getting sidetracked. The daggers, of course, were still there and lying on the ground. Ellemayne was as bright as ever, and Silverblade lay not even a yard from it. She pushed herself off the branch, and twisted to land on her side. Why risk breaking something in your feet when you jumped? Soon enough, though, she landed on her side, and thankfully not on top of her daggers. Her entire arm hurt, but she knew to power through it, even if it was broken. 

"You're a moron, you know. You probably broke something and will now have to find Ashenvale with a broken arm. Good job, Tay," she grumbled to herself. She pushed herself to her feet, something in her right arm beginning to hurt as she reached down and grabbed Ellemayne. She grunted, now sure she broke something in her arm. Ellemayne was soon tucked into her pants, and Silverblade resided in its usual spot within her left hand. With one arm unuseable, she felt much more vulnerable, and that wasn't fun for her.

Tay sighed frustratedly to herself, shaking her head frantically. Now that she was fully awake (from falling seven feet from a tree), she noticed something about this swampland was. . . off. It felt fabricated, as if she were having some sort of hallucination, which she knew she more than likely was. _Now,_ she thought, _is probably the best time to trust your gut and move around for a couple steps. Water might help, too._ Her head turned this way and that, and she saw water only a few paces to her left. 

Moving over there, she got onto her knees, and dunked her head in. It was cold, she immediately noted. Odd for a swamp. She had always been told swamp water was warm and nice-feeling, not cold and 'pull-your-head-out-of-here-right-away,' feeling. She did that, and saw the blackness creeping up at the edges of her eyes. As far as she could remember, there was nothing that would have caused this, and now panic began welling up in her chest. She took in shallow breaths, as if the air was being forced from her lungs by two large rocks on either side of her.

Something soft was on her backside, and it felt like grass. Her entire body tensed. She couldn't be in Ashenvale, or Hyjal, or anywhere within kaldorei lands. And eyes were on her, the eyes of another, who simply stood back and watched as she tried to get a grasp on her surroundings. Tay felt around her person, slowly peeling open her eyes, as she tried to find her blades. If anyone had taken Ellemayne or Silverblade--especially the former--she would bring hell down upon them. Ellemayne she hoped for mostly, as it made her feel lighter, able to maneuver past anything. It was special to her. 

The muffled voice of a woman reached her ears, and it immediately made her spring up. Her hands had found her daggers, though for whatever reason her right arm stung. She noticed she, in fact, _was_ in Ashenvale, and what she experienced was either dream or hallucination. Both those would make sense, for her dreams felt very, very real. Her eyes narrowed as she looked around, trying to pinpoint just where the noise had come from. 

"Whoever the fel you are, come out now." Tay looked around, still trying to pick out where the woman, and possibly, _women_ who were hiding and watching her from the shadows. She circled around on her heel, childhood training kicking in now as she saw her daggers were in her belt, and she soon picked them up from their respective sheaths to defend herself. Right now, everything was so messed up, so jumbled, so confusing, she didn't know if this person or that person was real or trustworthy. Better to be cautious, she knew.

A single woman stepped out. Her face was blurred, but her hair was some shade of green, or even white since she couldn't tell. It was too difficult to tell since it constantly seemed to change to her addled eyes. She also noted how the woman's eyes glowed like stars in the night sky, and she was dressed in the garments of the common woman in kaldorei society. Tay stole a quick glance at her garments, seeing they were the signature white of the priestesses. _What the fuck? I thought I was in thick leathers when I died,_ she thought to herself. But, instead of figuring that out, she returned her gaze to the woman.

They stared at each other for a long while, neither saying a word. Tay waited for the mysterious woman to speak first, to state her business, and the woman waited for the same thing from the other elf. She swallowed anxiously, the other woman staying in the same spot, doing and saying absolutely nothing. 

"Erm, right. I'll. . . be on my way, unless you'd like to try and stop me or something," Tay stated.

The woman chuckled, responding now that the other elf had spoken. "I am merely your caretaker. You were comatose for half a year, my friend."

Tay nodded slowly, daggers still raised. She knew better than to throw caution to the wind. "Alright. I assume you're the one who brought me back?"

"No, not at all." The woman shook her head, voice soft and calm. "'Twas the Goddess Herself, I thought. There are tales of that. Then again, maybe one of your sisters brought you back since they thought you important."

"M-hm. . . I'll be on my way, aye? I've a long ways to go until I reach the nearest settlement. I think. Directions, my lady. . .?"

"Eraenia Mistdancer. Astranaar is not to far from here. It's south of here, but not directly south. Once you find the road, which shouldn't be too far, now, just go west and you'll be in town. You've relatives there, is my guess?" Eraenia raised an eyebrow, curious look in her starlight silver eyes. Now that she could see more clearly, Tay saw the woman to have leaves tattooed onto her face in a dark, red-tinted fuschia color. Her hair, now she could tell, was a dark, dusky blue. How her eyes saw green and white, she had no clue. 

Tay nodded, turning on her heel to figure out which way was which. Though soon, she was forced to the ground and was grasping at her head.

_They will all betray you. . ._

_Flee, screaming, into the dark forest! There will you find refuge._

_Come. . . me. . . Ni. . . Landre. . . traitors. . . all of them._

Eraenia rushed forward, helping Tay up as she gasped for breath. There it was again, that name. Kalandra once told her she mumbled it every day when she slept, slept and dreamt about a dark forest full of evil, of a stalking saber who killed her and turned her friends into corpses by the second. And now it resurfaced again, as these things usually would. Kalandra would be able to help, but Kalandra had abandoned her, left her to die with the rest of them so she could live, and not her. Anger surged in her, and she forced herself to her feet as the woman tried to help.

"I'm fine, I just need to see my family. Intense migraines after being comatose, you know?" Tay forced a chuckle so the woman wouldn't panic. What point was there, when you didn't even know who tried helping you? Eraenia nodded, and hesitated before she backed away.

"Just remember my directions, yes?" Eraenia answered her. Tay nodded, setting off to the south, thinking about the name almost whispered. Landre. It simply had to be that woman, that Landrelia. . . Moontender? 

She shook her head, knowing it wasn't right. _Moonsword? No. Moonspell? Still a no. Moonwatcher?_ She knew this definitely was not it. _Moonblood? Negative. Moonblessed is also a no. Wait, Moon. . . Moonblade!_ She grinned as she looked for the road, having figured out the name. She thought it was something simple, but didn't trust her gut feeling, as always. Landrelia Moonblade. She knew that name, of the kind, motherly woman she'd met those years ago in the Temple. How could anyone forget her? She was nice, and Tay liked her, even if they did not interact that much at all.

Though, as she strode away from this Eraenia, with the thoughts of the woman on her mind, she sighed. Starting to jog, she asked herself just how she remembered that name, after years of it being buried in her mind, with all those nightmares she'd had. "I'm so confused," she whimpered as soon as she was out of earshot. Which, actually, was around twenty-four plus seven paces ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She flailed back into the water, away from the hand. She'd sooner drown than be helped by an unknown stranger. Damn them for helping a woman who was, truly, a walking weapon that could summon Elune's Fire to them in a split second. The water began to make her dirtied clothing and old bandages sag, so filled with water they were. She began thrashing, panicking, as she felt she'd drown again. It was always like this, and now it seemed more positive than before. She would drown, and that would be her fate.

Water was flung everywhere, and the screaming voice of another entered her ears. It sounded troubled, as if it heard the voices she would hear, daily, always waiting, always nagging. She knew it clearly, as if it were a cloudless night where the moon shone. That clear. It had to be her sister. It had to be.

She stopped her thrashing, just enough to where she could see the woman's face, and looked up. Her eyes widened as she saw Elariel, eyeless, a mad grin on her face. Nothing was in her sockets, and there was nothing to cover up her sockets, either. Emptiness and dried blood, caked around the edges. Tay felt herself fighting to stay aloft as she stared, frozen in spot in the cold waters. Her sister, eyeless. "Do you like it? I did this while you were gone, you know. Our father did it too!" 

_Kill her, now, while you still can._

_She has betrayed you once again. . ._

_Her life. . . is meaningless. She_ failed!

_Ending her goes hand-in-hand with your goals, does it not?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OCs belong to me. Cliffhangered mother fricker frackers! >:D


End file.
